THE   WORKS   OF 

WASHINGTON  IRVING 


SALMAGUNDI 

VOYAGES   AND    DISCOVERIES    OF   THE 
COMPANIONS  OF   COLUMBUS 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE 


NEW    YORK   AND   LONDON 

THE  CO-OPERATIVE   PUBLICATION   SOCIETY,  INC. 

5 


501^782 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME  FIVE 

SALMAGUNDI 

OB  THE 

fHIM-WHAMS     AND     OPINIONS    OF     LAUNCELOT 

LANGSTAFF,   ESQ.,   AND   OTHERS 

VOLUME   FIRST 

L— Editor's  advertisement 7 

Publisher's  notice 9 

Introduction  to  the  work 10 

Theatrics— by  Will  Wizard 16 

New  York  Assembly— by  A.  Evergreen 18 

Q. — Launcelot  Langstaff's  account  of  his  friends 22 

Mr.  Wilson's  concert— by  A.  Evergreen 27 

Pindar  Cockloft  to  Launcelot  Langstaff 82 

HI.— Account  of  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan 88 

Letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 88 

Fashions— by  A.  Evergreen '. 48 

Fashionable  morning-dress  for  walking 44 

The  progress  of  Salmagundi 46 

Poetical  proclamation  from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq 48 

IV.— Some  account  of  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger 51 

Memorandums  for  a  tour  to  be  entitled  "The  Stranger  in  New  Jersey;  or, 

Cockney  Traveling' ' — by  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger 54 

V.— Introduction  to  a  letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan 50 

Letter  from  Mustapha  to  Abdallah  Eb'n  al  Rahab 60 

Account  of  Will  Wizard's  expedition  to  a  modern  ball— by  A.  Evergreen. ...  69 

Poetical  epistle  to  the  ladies— from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq 74 

VL— Account  of  the  family  of  the  Cocklofts 77 

Theatrics— by  William  Wizard,  Esq 87 

•JIT.— Letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 93 

Poetical  account  of  ancient  times— from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq. ..  102 

Notes  on  the  above— by  W.  Wizard,  Esq __..  106 

"   (3) 


VIII.— Anthony  Evergreen's  account  of  his  friend  Langstaff 107 

On  style— by  William  Wizard,  Esq U4 

The  editors  and  the  public ....  ISO 

IX.— Account  of  Miss  Charity  Cockloft 123 

From  the  elbow-chair  of  the  author ....129 

Letter  from  Rub-a-dub  Kelt  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 190 

Poetry,  from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq 137 

X.— Introduction  to  the  number 142 

Letter  from  Demi  Semiquaver  to  Launcelot  Langstaff,  Esq 144 

Note  by  the  publisher 140 


VOLUME  SECOND 

XL— Letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 161 

Account  of  "mine  uncle  John"  160 

XII.— Christopher  Cockloft's  company 167 

The  Stranger  at  Home;  or,  a  Tour  in  Broadway— by  Jeremy  Cockloft  the 

younger 174 

Introduction  to  Pindar  Cockloft's  poem 182 

A  poem,  from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq 188 

XIII. — Introduction  to  Will  Wizard's  plan  for  defending  our  harbor 186 

"Plans  for  defending  our  Harbor,"  by  William  Wizard,  Esq 180 

A  Retrospect;  or,  " What  you  witt"    198 

To  readers  and  correspondents...  205 

XIV.— Letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 206 

Cockloft  Hall— by  L.  Langstaff 215 

Theatrical  Intelligence— by  William  Wizard,  Esq 223 

XV. — Sketches  from  Nature — by  A.  Evergreen,  Gent 227 

On  Greatness— by  L.  Langstaff,  Esq 233 

XVI.— Style  at  Ballston— by  W.  Wizard,  Esq..  241 

From  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 247 

XVTI.— Autumnal  Reflections— by  Launcelot  Langstaff,  Esq 266 

Description  of  the  library  at  Cockloft  Hall— by  L.  Langstaff 260 

Chap.  CIX.  of  the  Chronicles  of  the  renowned  and  ancient  City  of  Gotham  264 

XVHL— The  little  man  in  black— by  Launcelot  Langstaff,  Esq 270 

Letter  from  Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Asem  Hacchem 278 

XT'*"- — Introduction  to  the  number 284 

Letter  from  Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan  to  Muley  Helim  al  Raggi 286 

Anthony  Evergreen's  introduction  to  the  "winter  campaign" 293 

Tea,  a  poem,  from  the  mill  of  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq 299 

XX.— On  the  new  year 803 

To  the  ladles— from  A.  Evergreen,  Gent 310 

Farewell  Address 316 


VOYAGES    AND   DISCOVERIES 

OF  THE 

COMPANIONS  OF  COLUMBUS 

ALONZO  OB  OJEDA.— His  first  voyage,  in  which  be  was  accompanied  by  Amerigo 

Vespucci 887 

Pedro  Alonzo  Nino  (149?) 841 

Christoval  Guerra  (1499) 841 

Vicente  Yanez  Pinzon(1499) 845 

Diego  DeLepe  (1500) 368 

RodrigoDe  Bastides  (1800) 352 

Second  voyage  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  (1503) 865 

Third  voyage  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda. 361 

The  voyage  of  Diego  de  Nicuesa 806 

VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.— Discoverer  of  the  Pacific  Ocean 429 

JUAN  *\JKCE  DE  LEON.— Conqueror  of  Porto  Rico  and  discoverer  of  Florida 688 

APPENDIX 

A  visit  to  Patos 889 

Manifesto  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda. BN 


SALMAGUNDI 


SALMAGUNDI 

OB 

THE  WHIM-WHAMS  AND  OPINIONS  OF 

LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF,  ESQ., 

AND   OTHERS* 


In  hoc  est  hoax,  cuin  quiz  et  jokesez, 
Et  smoke m,  toastem,  roastem  folksez, 

Fee,  favv,  fum.  — Psalmanazar. 

With  baked,  and  broiled,  and  stewed,  and  toasted; 
And  fried,  and  boiled,  and  smoked,  and  roasted, 
We  treat  the  town. 


VOLUflE    FIRST 


No.  I.— SATURDAY,   JANUARY   24,    1807 


As  everybody  knows,  or  ought  to  know,  what  a  SALMA- 
GUNDI is,  we  shall  spare  ourselves  the  trouble  of  an  explana- 
tion—besides, we  despise  trouble  as  we  do  everything  that  is 
low  and  mean ;  and  hold  the  man  who  would  incur  it  unnec- 
essarily as  an  object  worthy  our  highest  pity  and  contempt. 
Neither  will  we  puzzle  our  heads  to  give  an  account  of  our« 
selves,  for  two  reasons;  first,  because  it  is  nobody's  business; 
secondly,  because,  if  it  were,  we  do  not  hold  ourselves  bound 
to  attend  to  anybody's  business  but  our  own ;  and  even  that 
we  take  the  liberty  of  neglecting  when  it  suits  our  inclina- 
tion. To  these  we  might  add  a  third,  that  very  few  men 
can  give  a  tolerable  account  of  themselves,  let  them  try  ever 

*By  William  Irving,  James  Kirke  Paulding,  and  Washington 
Irving. 

(7) 


8  U/orKs  of  \I/a8l?ii)$toi) 

so  hard ;  but  this  reason,  we  candidly  avow,  would  not  hold 
good  with  ourselves. 

There  are,  however,  two  or  three  pieces  of  information 
which  we  bestow  gratis  on  the  public,  chiefly  because  it  suits 
our  own  pleasure  and  convenience  that  they  should  be  known, 
and  partly  because  we  do  not  wish  that  there  should  be  any 
ill-will  between  us  at  the  commencement  of  our  acquaintance. 

Our  intention  is  simply  to  instruct  the  young,  reform  the 
old,  correct  the  town,  and  castigate  the  age ;  this  is  an  ardu- 
ous task,  and,  therefore,  we  undertake  it  with  confidence. 
We  intend  for  this  purpose  to  present  a  striking  picture  of 
the  town ;  and  as  everybody  is  anxious  to  see  his  own  phiz 
on  canvas,  however  stupid  or  ugly  it  may  be,  we  have  no 
doubt  but  the  whole  town  will  flock  to  our  exhibition.  Our 
picture  will  necessarily  include  a  vast  variety  of  figures :  and 
should  any  gentleman  or  lady  be  displeased  with  the  invet- 
erate truth  of  their  likenesses,  they  may  ease  their  spleen  by 
laughing  at  those  of  their  neighbors — this  being  what  we 
understand  by  POETICAL  JUSTICE. 

Like  all  true  and  able  editors,  we  consider  ourselves  in- 
fallible, and,  therefore,  with  the  customary  diffidence  of  our 
brethren  of  the  quill,  we  shall  take  the  liberty  of  interfering 
in  all  matters  either  of  a  public  or  private  nature.  We  are 
critics,  amateurs,  dilettanti,  and  cognoscenti;  and  as  we  know 
"by  the  pricking  of  our  thumbs"  that  every  opinion  which 
we  may  advance  in  either  of  those  characters  will  be  correct, 
we  are  determined,  though  it  may  be  questioned,  contra- 
dicted, or  even  controverted,  yet  it  shall  never  be  revoked. 

We  beg  the  public  particularly  to  understand  that  we 
solicit  no  patronage.  We  are  determined,  on  the  contrary, 
that  the  patronage  shall  be  entirely  on  our  side.  We  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  pecuniary  concerns  of  the  paper;  its 
success  will  yield  us  neither  pride  nor  profit— nor  will  its  fail- 
ure occasion  to  us  either  loss  or  mortification.  We  advise  the 
public,  therefore,  to  purchase  our  numbers  merely  for  their 
own  sakes — if  they  do  not,  let  them  settle  the  affair  with  their 
consciences  and  posterity. 


To  conclude,  we  invite  all  editors  of  newspapers  and  lit- 
erary journals  to  praise  us  heartily  in  advance,  as  we  assure 
them  th^i.  we  intend  to  deserve  their  praises.  To  our  next- 
door  neighbor,  "Town,"  we  hold  out  a  hand  of  amity,  de- 
claring to  him  that,  after  ours,  his  paper  will  stand  the  best 
chance  for  immortality.  We  proffer  an  exchange  of  civili- 
ties; he  shall  furnish  us  with  notices  of  epic  poems  and  to- 
bacco :  and  we  in  return  will  enrich  him  with  original  specu- 
lations on  all  manner  of  subjects;  together  with  "the  rum» 
maging  of  my  grandfather's  mahogany  chest  of  drawers," 
"the  life  and  amours  of  mine  Uncle  John,"  "anecdotes  of  the 
Cockloft  family,"  and  learned  quotations  from  that  unheard- 
of  writer  of  folios,  Linkum  Fidelius, 


PUBLISHER'S    NOTICE 

THIS  work  will  be  published  and  sold  by  D.  Longworth* 
It  will  be  printed  on  hot  pressed  vellum  paper,  as  that  is  held 
in  highest  estimation  for  buckling  up  young  ladies'  hair— a 
purpose  to  which  similar  works  are  usually  appropriated ;  it 
will  be  a  small,  neat  duodecimo  size,  so  that  when  enough  num- 
bers are  written  it  may  form  a  volume  sufficiently  portable  to  be 
carried  hi  old  ladies'  pockets  and  young  ladies'  work-bags. 

As  the  above  work  will  not  come  out  at  stated  periods, 
notice  will  be  given  when  another  number  will  be  published. 
The  price  will  depend  on  the  size  of  the  number,  and  must  be 
paid  on  delivery.  The  publisher  professes  the  same  sublime 
contempt  for  money  as  his  authors.  The  liberal  patronage 
bestowed  by  his  discerning  fellow-citizens  on  various  works 
of  taste  which  he  has  published  has  left  him  no  inclination 
to  ask  for  further  favors  at  their  hands;  and  he  publishes 
this  work  in  the  mere  hope  of  requiting  their  bounty.* 

*  It  was  not  originally  the  intention  of  the  authors  to  insert  the 
above  address  in  the  work;  but,  unwilling  that  a  morceau  so  precious 
should  be  lost  to  posterity,  they  have  been  induced  to  alter  their  minds. 
This  will  account  for  any  repetition  of  idea  that  may  appear  in  the 
introductory  essay. 


of  U/a8l)fr)$toi) 


FROM  THE  ELBOW-CHAIR  OF  LAUNCELOT 
LANGSTAFF,  ESQ. 

WE  were  a  considerable  time  in  deciding  whether  we 
should  be  at  the  pains  of  introducing  ourselves  to  the  public. 
As  we  care  for  nobody,  and  as  we  are  not  yet  at  the  bar,  we 
do  not  feel  bound  to  hold  up  our  hands  and  answer  to  our 
names. 

Willing,  however,  to  gain  at  once  that  frank,  confidential 
footing  which  we  are  certain  of  ultimately  possessing  hi  this, 
doubtless,  "best  of  all  possible  cities";  and  anxious  to  spare 
its  worthy  inhabitants  the  trouble  of  making  a  thousand  wise 
conjectures,  not  one  of  which  would  be  worth  a  "tobacco- 
stopper,"  we  have  thought  it  in  some  degree  a  necessary  ex- 
ertion of  charitable  condescension  to  furnish  them  with  a 
slight  clew  to  the  truth. 

Before  we  proceed  further,  however,  we  advise  every- 
body, man,  woman,  and  child,  that  can  read,  or  get  any 
friend  to  read  for  them,  to  purchase  this  paper — not  that  we 
write  for  money — for,  in  common  with  all  philosophical  wise- 
acres, from  Solomon  downward,  we  hold  it  in  supreme  con- 
tempt. The  public  are  welcome  to  buy  this  work  or  not ;  just 
as  they  choose.  If  it  be  purchased  freely,  so  much  the  bet- 
ter for  the  public — and  the  publisher:  we  gain  not  a  stiver. 
If  it  be  not  purchased  we  give  fair  warning — we  sha.11  burn 
all  our  essays,  critiques,  and  epigrams,  in  one  promiscuous 
blaze;  and,  like  the  books  of  the  sybils  and  the  Alexandrian 
library,  they  will  be  lost  forever  to  posterity.  For  the  sake, 
therefore,  of  our  publisher,  for  the  sake  of  the  public,  and 
for  the  sake  of  the  public's  children,  to  the  nineteenth  gen- 
eration, we  advise  them  to  purchase  our  paper.  We  beg  the 
respectable  old  matrons  of  this  city  not  to  be  alarmed  at  the 
appearance  we  make;  we  are  none  of  those  outlandish  gen- 
iuses who  swarm  in  New  York,  who  live  by  their  wits,  or 
rather  by  the  little  wit  of  their  neighbors;  and  who  spoil  the 


II 

genuine  honest  American  tastes  of  their  daughters  with 
French  slops  and  fricasseed  sentiment. 

We  have  said  we  do  not  write  for  money.  Neither  do  we 
write  for  fame.  We  know  too  well  the  variable  nature  of 
public  opinion  to  build  our  hopes  upon  it— we  care  not  what 
the  public  think  of  us ;  and  we  suspect,  before  we  reach  the 
tenth  number,  they  will  not  know  what  to  think  of  us.  In 
two  words,  we  write  for  no  other  earthly  purpose  but  to 
please  ourselves — and  this  we  shall  be  sure  of  doing;  for  we 
are  all  three  of  us  determined  beforehand  to  be  pleased  with 
what  we  write.  If,  in  the  course  of  this  work,  we  edify  and 
instruct  and  amuse  the  public,  so  much  the  better  for  the 
public ;  but  we  frankly  acknowledge  that  so  soon  as  we  get 
tired  of  reading  our  own  works  we  shall  discontinue  them 
without  the  least  remorse,  whatever  the  public  may  think  of 
ito  While  we  continue  to  go  on,  we  will  go  on  merrily.  If 
we  moralize,  it  shall  be  but  seldom;  and,  on  all  occasions, 
we  shall  be  more  solicitous  to  make  our  readers  laugh  than 
cry;  for  we  are  laughing  philosophers,  and  clearly  of  opinion 
that  wisdom,  true  wisdom,  is  a  plump,  jolly  dame,  who  sits 
in  her  armchair,  laughs  right  merrily  at  the  farce  of  life — 
and  takes  the  world  as  it  goes. 

We  intend  particularly  to  notice  the  conduct  of  the  fash- 
ionable world;  nor  in  this  shall  we  be  governed  by  that  carp- 
ing spirit  with  which  narrow-minded  bookworm  cynics  squint 
at  the  little  extravagances  of  the  ton,  but  with  that  liberal 
toleration  which  actuates  every  man  of  fashion.  While  we 
keep  more  than  a  Cerberus  watch  over  the  guardian  rules  of 
female  delicacy  and  decorum,  we  shall  not  discourage  any 
little  sprightliness  of  demeanor  or  innocent  vivacity  of  char- 
acter. Before  we  advance  one  line  further  we  must  let  it  be 
understood,  as  our  firm  opinion,  void  of  all  prejudice  or  par- 
tiality, that  the  ladies  of  New  York  are  the  fairest,  the  finest, 
tho  most  accomplished,  the  most  bewitching,  the  most  in- 
effable beings  that  walk,  creep,  crawl,  swim,  fly,  float,  or 
vegetate  in  any  or  all  of  the  tour  elements;  and  that  they 
only  want  to  be  cured  of  certain  whims,  eccentricities,  and 


12  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)<$tor} 

unseemly  conceits,  by  our  superintending  cares,  to  render 
them  absolutely  perfect.  They  will,  therefore,  receive  a 
large  portion  of  those  attentions  directed  to  the  fashionable 
world;  nor  will  the  gentlemen,  who  doze  away  their  time 
in  the  circles  of  the  hunt-ton,  escape  our  currying.  We  mean 
those  stupid  fellows  who  sit  stockstill  upon  their  chairs,  with- 
out saying  a  word,  and  then  complain  how  damned  stupid  it 

was  at  Miss 's  party. 

This  department  will  be  under  the  peculiar  direction  and  con- 
trol of  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT.,  to  whom  all  communi- 
cations on  this  subject  are  to  be  addressed.  This  gentleman, 
from  his  long  experience  in  the  routine  of  balls,  tea-parties, 
and  assemblies,  is  eminently  qualified  for  the  task  he  has  un- 
dertaken. He  is  a  kind  of  patriarch  hi  the  fashionable  world; 
and  has  seen  generation  after  generation  pass  away  into  the 
silent  tomb  of  matrimony  while  he  remains  unchangeably 
the  same.  He  can  recount  the  amours  and  courtships  of  the 
fathers,  mothers,  uncles  and  aunts,  and  even  the  grandames, 
of  all  the  belles  of  the  present  day;  provided  their  pedigrees 
extend  so  far  back  without  being  lost  in  obscurity.  As,  how- 
ever, treating  of  pedigrees  is  rather  an  ungrateful  task  in  this 
city,  and  as  we  mean  to  be  perfectly  good-natured,  he  has 
promised  to  be  cautious  in  this  particular.  He  recollects 
perfectly  the  time  when  young  ladies  used  to  go  sleigh-rid- 
ing at  night,  without  their  mammas  or  grandmammas;  in 
short,  without  being  matronized  at  all;  and  can  relate  a 
thousand  pleasant  stories  about  Kissing  Bridge.  He  like- 
wise remembers  the  time  when  ladies  paid  tea- visits  at  three 
in  the  afternoon,  and  returned  before  dark  to  see  that  the 
house  was  shut  up  and  the  servants  on  duty.  He  has  often 
played  cricket  in  the  orchard  in  the  rear  of  old  Vauxhall, 
and  remembers  when  the  Bull's  Head  was  quite  out  of  town. 
Though  he  was  slowly  and  gradually  given  into  modern  fash 
ions,  and  still  nourishes  in  the  beau-monde,  yet  he  seems  a 
little  prejudiced  in  favor  of  the  dress  and  manners  of  the  old 
school;  and  his  chief  commendation  of  a  new  mode  is  "that 
it  is  the  same  good  old  fashion  we  had  before  the  war."  It 


13 

has  cost  us  much  trouble  to  make  him  confess  that  a  cotillon 
is  superior  to  a  minuet,  or  an  unadorned  crop  to  a  pig- tail 
and  powder.  Custom  and  fashion  have,  however,  had  more 
effect  on  him  than  all  our  lectures;  and  he  tempers,  so  hap- 
pily, the  grave  and  ceremonious  gallantry  of  the  old  school 
with  the  "hail  fellow"  familiarity  of  the  new,  that,  we  trust, 
on  a  little  acquaintance,  and  making  allowance  for  his  old^ 
fashioned  prejudices,  he  will  become  a  very  considerable  fav- 
orite with  our  readers — if  not,  the  worse  for  themselves;  as 
they  will  have  to  endure  his  company. 

In  the  territory  of  criticism,  WILLIAM  WIZABD,  ESQ.,  has 
undertaken  to  preside ;  and  though  we  may  all  dabble  in  it 
a  little  by  turns,  yet  we  have  willingly  ceded  to  him  all  dis- 
cretionary powers  in  this  respect,  though  "Will  has  not  had 
the  advantage  of  an  education  at  Oxford  or  Cambridge,  or 
even  at  Edinburgh  or  Aberdeen,  and  though  he  is  but  little 
versed  in  Hebrew,  yet  we  have  no  doubt  he  will  be  found 
fully  competent  to  the  undertaking.  He  has  improved  his 
taste  by  a  long  residence  abroad,  particularly  at  Canton,  Cal- 
cutta, and  the  gay  and  polished  court  of  Hayti.  He  has  also 
had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  best  singing-girls  and  trage- 
dians of  China,  is  a  great  connoisseur  in  mandarin  dresses, 
and  porcelain,  and  particularly  values  himself  on  his  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  buffalo,  and  war-dances  of  the  northern 
Indians.  He  is  likewise  promised  the  assistance  of  a  gentle- 
man lately  from  London,  who  was  born  and  bred  in  that 
center  of  science  and  bongout,  the  vicinity  of  Fleetmarket, 
where  he  has  been  edified,  man  and  boy,  these  six-and-twenty 
years,  with  the  harmonious  jingle  of  Bow-bells.  His  taste, 
therefore,  has  attained  to  such  an  exquisite  pitch  of  refinement 
that  there  are  few'  exhibitions  of  any  kind  which  do  not  put 
him  in  a  fever.  He  has  assured  "Will  that  if  Mr.  Cooper  em- 
phasizes "and"  instead  of  "but" — or  Mrs.  Oldmixonpins 
her  kerchief  a  hair-breadth  awry — or  Mrs.  Darley  offers  to 
dare  to  look  less  than  the  "daughter  of  a  senator  of  Venice" 
— the  standard  of  a  senator's  daughter  being  exactly  six  feet 
—they  shall  all  hear  of  it  in  good  time.  We  have,  however, 


14  ll/or^s  of 

advised  Will  Wizard  to  keep  his  friend  in  check,  lest  by  open- 
ing the  eyes  of  the  public  to  the  wretchedness  of  the  actors 
by  whom  they  have  hitherto  been  entertained  he  might  cut 
off  one  source  of  amusement  from  our  fellow-citizens.  We 
hereby  give  notice  that  we  have  taken  the  whole  corps,  from 
the  manager  in  his  mantle  of  gorgeous  copper-lace  to  honest 
John  in  his  green  coat  and  black  breeches,  under  our  wing 
— and  woe  be  unto  him  who  injures  a  hair  of  their  heads. 
As  we  have  no  design  against  the  patience  of  our  fellow-citi- 
zens, we  shall  not  dose  them  with  copious  draughts  of  the- 
atrical criticism ;  we  well  know  that  they  have  already  been 
well  physicked  with  them  of  late ;  our  theatrics  shall  take  up 
but  a  small  part  of  our  paper;  nor  shall  they  be  altogether 
confined  to  the  stage,  but  extend  from  time  to  time  to  those 
incorrigible  offenders  against  the  peace  of  society,  the  stage- 
critics,  who  not  infrequently  create  the  fault  they  find,  in 
order  to  yield  an  opening  for  their  witticisms — censure  an 
actor  for  a  gesture  he  never  made  or  an  emphasis  he  never 
gave ;  and,  in  their  attempt  to  show  off  new  readings,  make 
the  sweet  swan  of  Avon  cackle  like  a  goose.  If  any  one 
should  feel  himself  offended  by  our  remarks,  let  him  attack 
us  in  return — we  shall  not  wince  from  the  combat.  If  his 
passes  be  successful,  we  will  be  the  first  to  cry  out,  a  hit !  a 
hit !  and  we  doubt  not  we  shall  frequently  lay  ourselves  open 
to  the  weapons  of  our  assailants.  But  let  them  have  a  care 
how  they  run  a  tilting  with  us — they  have  to  deal  with  stub- 
born foes,  who  can  bear  a  world  of  pummeling;  we  will  be 
relentless  in  our  vengeance,  and  will  fight  "till  from  our 
bones  the  flesh  be  hackt." 

What  other  subjects  we  shall  include  in  the  range  of  our 
observations  we  have  not  determined,  or  rather  we  shall  not 
trouble  ourselves  to  detail.  The  public  have  already  more 
information  concerning  us  than  we  intended  to  impart.  We 
owe  them  no  favors,  neither  do  we  ask  any.  We  again  ad- 
vise them,  for  their  own  sakes,  to  read  our  papers  when  they 
come  out.  We  recommend  to  all  mothers  to  purchase  them 
for  their  daughters,  who  will  be  taught  the  true  line  of  pro- 


15 

priety,  and  the  most  advisable  method  of  managing  their 
beaux.  "We  advise  all  daughters  to  purchase  them  for  the 
Bake  of  their  mothers,  who  shall  be  initiated  into  the  arcana 
of  the  bon-ton,  and  cured  of  all  those  rusty  old  notions  which 
they  acquired  during  the  last  century :  parents  shall  be  taught 
how  to  govern  their  children,  girls  how  to  get  husbands,  and 
old  maids  how  to  do  without  them. 

As  we  do  not  measure  our  wits  by  the  yard  or  the  bushel, 
and  as  they  do  not  flow  periodically  nor  constantly,  we  shall 
not  restrict  our  paper  as  to  size  or  the  time  of  its  appearance. 
It  will  be  published  whenever  we  have  sufficient  matter  to 
constitute  a  number,  and  the  size  of  the  number  shall  depend 
on  the  stock  in  hand.  This  will  best  suit  our  negligent  hab- 
its, and  leave  us  that  full  liberty  and  independence  which  is 
the  joy  and  pride  of  our  souls.  As  we  have  before  hinted 
that  we  do  not  concern  ourselves  about  the  pecuniary  matters 
of  our  paper,  we  leave  its  price  to  be  regulated  by  our  pub- 
lisher, only  recommending  him,  for  his  own  interest,  and  the 
honor  of  his  authors,  not  to  sell  their  invaluable  productions 
too  cheap. 

Is  there  any  one  who  wishes  to  know  more  about  us? — let 
him  read  "Salmagundi,"  and  grow  wise  apace.  Thus  much 
we  will  say — there  are  three  of  us,  "Bardolph,  Peto,  and  I," 
all  townsmen  good  and  true — many  a  time  and  oft  have  we 
three  amused  the  town  without  its  knowing  to  whom  it  was 
indebted;  and  many  a  time  have  we  seen  the  midnight  lamp 
twinkle  faintly  on  our  studious  phizes,  and  heard  the  morn- 
ing salutation  of  "past  three  o'clock,"  before  we  sought  our 
pillows.  The  result  of  these  midnight  studies  is  now  offered 
to  the  public ;  and  little  as  we  care  for  the  opinion  of  this 
exceedingly  stupid  world,  we  shall  take  care,  as  far  as  lies  in 
our  careless  natures,  to  fulfill  the  promises  made  in  this  in- 
troduction ;  if  we  do  not,  we  shall  have  so  many  examples  to 
justify  us  that  we  feel  little  solicitude  on  that  account. 


16  U/orKs  of  U/asbii^toi) 


THEATRICS 

CONTAINING   THE   QUINTESSENCE   OF   MODERN   CRITICISM. 
BY   WILLIAM  WIZARD,    ESQ. 

*'  MACBETH"  was  performed  to  a  very  crowded  housev 
t*nd  much  to  our  satisfaction.  As,  however,  our  neighbor 
"Town' '  has  been  very  voluminous  already  in  his  criticisms  on 
this  play,  we  shall  make  but  few  remarks.  Having  never 
seen  Kemble  in  this  character  we  are  absolutely  at  a  loss  to 
say  whether  Mr.  Cooper  performed  it  well  or  not.  "We  think, 
however,  there  was  an  error  in  his  costume,  as  the  learned 
Linkum  Fidelius  is  of  opinion  that  in  the  time  of  Macbeth 
the  Scots  did  not  wear  sandals,  but  wooden  shoes.  Macbeth 
also  was  noted  for  wearing  his  jacket  open,  that  he  might 
play  the  Scotch  fiddle  more  conveniently — that  being  an  he- 
reditary accomplishment  in  the  Glamis  family. 

We  have  seen  this  character  performed  in  China  by  the 
celebrated  Chow- Chow,  the  Roscius  of  that  great  empire, 
who  in  the  dagger  scene  always  electrified  the  audience  by 
blowing  his  nose  like  a  trumpet.  Chow-Chow,  in  compli- 
ance with  the  opinion  of  the  sage  Linkum  Fidelius,  per- 
formed "Macbeth"  in  wooden  shoes;  this  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity of  producing  great  effect,  for,  on  first  seeing  the 
"air-drawn  dagger,"  he  always  cut  a  prodigious  high  caper, 
and  kicked  his  shoes  into  the  pit  at  the  heads  of  the  critics ; 
whereupon  the  audience  were  marvelously  delighted,  flour- 
ished their  hands  and  stroked  their  whiskers  three  times, 
and  the  matter  was  carefully  recorded  hi  the  next  number  of 
a  paper  called  the  "Flim  Flam."  (English — town.) 

We  were  much  pleased  with  Mrs.  Villiers  in  Lady  Mac- 
beth :  but  we  think  she  would  have  given  a  greater  effect  to 
the  night-scene,  if,  instead  of  holding  the  candle  in  her  hand 
or  setting  it  down  on  the  table,  which  is  sagaciously  censured 
by  neighbor  "Town,"  she  had  stuck  it  hi  her  nightcap.  This 


17 

would  have  been  extremely  picturesque,  and  would  have 
marked  more  strongly  the  derangement  of  her  mind. 

Mrs.  Villiers,  however,  is  not  by  any  means  large  enough 
for  the  character;  Lady  Macbeth  having  been,  in  our  opin- 
ion, a  woman  of  extraordinary  size,  and  of  the  race  of  the 
giants,  notwithstanding  what  she  says  of  her  "little  hand" 
«— which,  being  said  in  her  sleep,  passes  for  nothing.  "We 
should  be  happy  to  see  this  character  in  the  hands  of  the 
lady  who  played  Glumdalca,  queen  of  the  giants,  in  "Tom 
Thumb";  she  is  exactly  of  imperial  dimensions;  and,  pro- 
vided she  is  well  shaved,  of  a  most  interesting  physiognomy: 
as  she  appears  likewise  to  be  a  lady  of  some  nerve,  I  dare 
engage  she  will  read  a  letter  about  witches  vanishing  in  air, 
and  such  common  occurrences,  without  being  unnaturally 
surprised,  to  the  annoyance  of  honest  "Town." 

We  are  happy  to  observe  that  Mr.  Cooper  profits  by  the 
instructions  of  friend  "Town,"  and  does  not  dip  the  daggers 
in  blood  so  deep  as  formerly  by  a  matter  of  an  inch  or  two. 
This  was  a  violent  outrage  upon  our  immortal  bard.  We 
differ  with  Mr.  Town  in  his  reading  of  the  words  "this  is  a 
sorry  sight."  We  are  of  opinion  the  force  of  the  sentence 
should  be  thrown  on  the  word  sight,  because  Macbeth,  hav- 
ing been  shortly  before  most  confoundedly  humbugged  with 
an  aerial  dagger,  was  in  doubt  whether  the  daggers  actually 
in  his  hands  were  real,  or  whether  they  were  not  mere  shad- 
ows, or,  as  the  old  English  may  have  termed  it,  syghtes  (this, 
at  any  rate,  will  establish  our  skill  in  new  readings).  Though 
we  differ  in  this  respect  from  our  neighbor  "Town,"  yet  we 
heartily  agree  with  him  in  censuring  Mr.  Cooper  for  omit- 
ting that  passage  so  remarkable  for  "beauty  of  imagery," 
etc.,  beginning  with  "and  pity,  like  a  naked,  new-born  babe," 
etc.  It  is  one  of  those  passages  of  Shakespeare  which  should 
always  be  retained,  for  the  purpose  of  showing  how  some- 
tunes  that  great  poet  could  talk  like  a  buzzard ;  or,  to  speak 
more  plainly,  like  the  famous  mad  poet  Nat  Lee. 

As  it  is  the  first  duty  of  a  friend  to  advise — and  as  we 
profess  and  do  actually  feel  a  friendship  for  honest  "Town" 


18  U/or^s  of 

— we  warn  him  never  in  his  criticisms  to  meddle  with  a 
lady's  "petticoats,"  or  to  quote  Nic  Bottom.  In  the  first 
instance  he  may  "catch  a  tartar";  and,  in  the  second,  the 
ass's  head  may  rise  up  in  judgment  against  him;  and  when 
it  is  once  afloat  there  is  no  knowing  where  some  unlucky 
hand  may  place  it.  We  would  not,  for  all  the  money  in  our 
pockets,  see  "Town"  flourishing  his  critical  quill  under  the 
auspices  of  an  ass's  head,  like  the  great  Franklin  in  his 
"Monterio  Cap." 


NEW   YORK    ASSEMBLY 

BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT 

THE  assemblies  this  year  have  gained  a  great  accession 
of  beauty.  Several  brilliant  stars  have  arisen  from  the  east 
and  from  the  north  to  brighten  the  firmament  of  fashion ; 
among  the  number  I  have  discovered  another  planet,  which 
rivals  even  Venus  in  luster,  and  I  claim  equal  honor  with 
Herschel  for  my  discovery.  I  shall  take  some  future  oppor- 
tunity to  describe  this  planet  and  the  numerous  satellites 
which  revolve  around  it. 

At  the  last  assembly  the  company  began  to  make  some 
show  about  eight,  but  the  most  fashionable  delayed  their 
appearance  until  about  nine — nine  being  the  number  of  the 
muses,  and  therefore  the  best  possible  hour  for  beginning  to 
exhibit  the  graces.  (This  is  meant  for  a  pretty  play  upon 
words,  and  I  assure  my  readers  that  I  think  it  very  tolerable.) 

Poor  Will  Honeycomb,  whose  memory  I  hold  in  special 
consideration,  even  with  his  half  century  of  experience,  would 
have  been  puzzled  to  point  out  the  humors  of  a  lady  by  her 
prevailing  colors;  for  the  "rival  queens"  of  fashion,  Mrs. 
Toole  and  Madame  Bouchard,  appeared  to  have  exhausted 
their  wonderful  inventions  in  the  different  disposition,  varia- 
tion, and  combination  of  tints  and  shades.  The  philosopher 
who  maintained  that  black  was  white,  and  that  of  course 


Salmagupdt  19 

there  was  no  such  color  as  white,  might  have  given  some 
color  to  his  theory  on  this  occasion,  by  the  absence  of  poor 
forsaken  white  muslin.  I  was,  however,  much  pleased  to 
see  that  red  maintains  its  ground  against  all  other  colors,  be- 
cause red  is  the  color  of  Mr.  Jefferson's ,  Tom 

Paine's  nose,  and  my  slippers. 

Let  the  grumbling  smellf ungi  of  this  world,  who  cultivate 
taste  among  books,  cobwebs,  and  spiders,  rail  at  the  extrava- 
gance of  the  age ;  for  my  part,  I  was  delighted  with  the  magic 
of  the  scene,  and  as  the  ladies  tripped  through  the  mazes  of 
the  dance,  sparkling  and  glowing  and  dazzling,  I,  like  the 
honest  Chinese,  thanked  them  heartily  for  the  jewels  and 
finery  with  which  they  loaded  themselves,  merely  for  the 
entertainment  of  bystanders,  and  blessed  my  stars  that  I 
was  a  bachelor. 

The  gentlemen  were  considerably  numerous,  and  being  as 
usual  equipped  in  their  appropriate  black  uniforms,  consti- 
tuted a  sable  regiment  which  contributed  not  a  little  to  the 
brilliant  gayety  of  the  ball-room.  I  must  confess  I  am  in- 
debted for  this  remark  to  our  friend,  the  cockney,  Mr.  'Sbid- 
likensflash,  or  'Sbidlikens,  as  he  is  called  for  shortness.  He 
is  a  fellow  of  infinite  verbosity — stands  in  high  favor — with 
himself — and,  like  Caleb  Quotem,  is  "up  to  everything."  I 
remember  when  a  comfortable,  plump-looking  citizen  led  into 
the  room  a  fair  damsel,  who  looked  for  all  the  world  like  the 
personification  of  a  rainbow :  'Sbidlikens  observed  that  it  re« 
minded  him  of  a  fable  which  he  had  read  somewhere,  of  the 
marriage  of  an  honest,  painstaking  snail,  who  had  once 
walked  six  feet  in  an  hour  for  a  wager,  to  a  butterfly  whom 
he  used  to  gallant  by  the  elbow,  with  the  aid  of  much  puffing 
and  exertion.  On  being  called  upon  to  tell  where  he  had  come 
across  this  story,  '  Sbidlikens  absolutely  refused  to  answer. 

It  would  but  be  repeating  an  old  story  to  say  that  the 
ladies  of  New  York  dance  well;  and  well  may  they,  since 
they  learn  it  scientifically,  and  begin  their  lessons  before  they 
have  quit  their  swaddling  clothes.  The  immortal  Duport 
has  usurped  despotic  sway  over  all  the  female  heads  and 


20  U/orKs  of 

heels  in  this  city — hornbooks,  primers,  and  pianos  are  neg- 
lected to  attend  to  his  positions ;  and  poor  Chilton,  with  his 
pots  and  kettles  and  chemical  crockery,  finds  him  a  more 
potent  enemy  than  the  whole  collective  force  of  the  "North 
River  Society."  'Sbidlikens  insists  that  this  dancing  mania 
will  inevitably  continue  as  long  as  a  dancing-master  will 
charge  the  fashionable  price  of  five-and-twenty  dollars  a 
quarters  and  all  the  other  accomplishment  are  so  vulgar  as 
to  be  attainable  at  "half  the  money";  but  I  put  no  faith  in 
'Sbidlikens'  candor  in  this  particular.  Among  his  infinitude 
of  endowments  he  is  but  a  poor  proficient  in  dancing;  and 
though  he  often  flounders  through  a  cotilion,  yet  he  never 
wfc  a  pigeon- wing  in  his  life. 

In  my  mind  there's  no  position  more  positive  and  unex- 
ceptionable than  that  most  Frenchmen,  dead  or  alive,  are 
born  dancers.  I  came  pounce  upon  this  discovery  at  the 
assembly,  and  I  immediately  noted  it  down  in  my  register  of 
indisputable  facts — the  public  shall  know  all  about  it.  As  I 
never  dance  cotilions,  holding  them  to  be  monstrous  distort- 
ers of  the  human  frame,  and  tantamount  in  their  operations 
to  being  broken  and  dislocated  on  the  wheel,  I  generally  take 
occasion,  while  they  are  going  on,  to  make  my  remarks  on 
the  company.  In  the  course  of  these  observations  I  was 
struck  with  the  energy  and  eloquence  of  sundry  limbs,  which 
seemed  to  be  flourishing  about  without  appertaining  to  any- 
body. After  much  investigation  and  difficulty,  I  at  length 
traced  them  to  their  respective  owners,  whom  I  found  to  be 
all  Frenchmen  to  a  man.  Art  may  have  meddled  somewhat 
in  these  affairs,  but  nature  certainly  did  more.  I  have  since 
been  considerably  employed  in  calculations  on  this  subject ; 
and  by  the  most  accurate  computation  I  have  determined 
that  a  Frenchman  passes  at  least  three-fifths  of  his  time  be- 
tween the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  partakes  eminently  of 
the  nature  of  a  gossamer  or  soap-bubble.  One  of  these  jack- 
o'-lantern  heroes,  in  taking  a  figure  which  neither  Euclid  nor 
Pythagoras  himself  could  demonstrate,  unfortunately  wound 
himself — I  mean  his  feet,  his  better  part — into  a  lady's  cob- 


web  muslin  robe ;  but  perceiving  it  at  the  instant,  he  set  him* 
self  a  spinning  the  other  way,  like  a  top,  unraveled  his  step 
without  omitting  one  angle  or  curve,  and  extricated  himself 
without  breaking  a  thread  of  the  lady's  dress !  He  then  sprung 
up,  like  a  sturgeon,  crossed  his  feet  four  tunes,  and  finished 
this  wonderful  evolution  by  quivering  his  left  leg,  as  a  cat 
does  her  paw  when  she  has  accidentally  dipped  it  in  water. 
No  man  "of  woman  born,"  who  was  not  a  Frenchman  or  a 
mountebank,  could  have  done  the  like. 

Among  the  new  faces,  I  remarked  a  blooming  nymph, 
who  has  brought  a  fresh  supply  of  roses  from  the  country  to 
adorn  the  wreath  of  beauty,  where  lilies  too  much  predomi- 
nate. As  I  wish  well  to  every  sweet  face  under  heaven,  I 
sincerely  hope  her  roses  may  survive  the  frosts  and  dissipa- 
tions of  winter,  and  lose  nothing  by  a  comparison  with  the 
loveliest  offerings  of  the  spring.  'Sbidlikens,  to  whom  I 
made  similar  remarks,  assured  me  that  they  were  very  just, 
and  very  prettily  expressed;  and  that  the  lady  in  question 
was  a  prodigious  fine  piece  of  flesh  and  blood.  Now  could 
I  find  it  in  my  heart  to  baste  these  cockneys  like  their  own 
roast-beef — they  can  make  no  distinction  between  a  fine 
woman  and  a  fine  horse. 

I  would  praise  the  sylph-like  grace  with  which  another 
young  lady  acquitted  herself  in  the  dance,  but  that  she  ex- 
cels in  far  more  valuable  accomplishments.  Who  praises  the 
rose  for  its  beauty,  even  though  it  is  beautiful. 

The  company  retired  at  the  customary  hour  to  the  supper- 
room,  where  the  tables  were  laid  out  with  their  usual  splen- 
dor and  profusion.  My  friend,  'Sbidlikens,  with  the  native 
forethought  of  a  cockney,  had  carefully  stowed  his  pocket 
with  cheese  and  crackers,  that  he  might  not  be  tempted  again 
to  venture  his  limbs  in  the  crowd  of  hungry  fair  ones  who 
throng  the  supper-room  door;  his  precaution  was  unneces- 
sary, for  the  company  entered  the  room  with  surprising  order 
and  decorum.  No  gowns  were  torn — no  ladies  fainted — no 
noses  bled — nor  was  there  any  need  of  the  interference  of 
either  managers  or  jjeace  officers. 


of  U/asl?ii)$toi) 


No.   II  —WEDNESDAY,   FEBRUARY  4,    1807 

FROM  THE  ELBOW-CHAIR  OF  LATJNCELOT 
LANGSTAFF,  ESQ. 

IN  the  conduct  of  an  epic  poem  it  has  been  the  custom, 
from  time  immemorial,  for  the  poet  occasionally  to  introduce 
his  reader  to  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  heroes  of  his 
story,  by  conducting  him  into  their  tents,  and  giving  him  an 
opportunity  of  observing  them  in  their  night-gown  and  slip- 
pers. However  I  despise  the  servile  genius  that  would  de- 
scend to  follow  a  precedent,  though  furnished  by  Homer  him- 
self, and  consider  him  as  on  a  par  with  the  cart  that  follows 
at  the  heels  of  the  horse,  without  ever  taking  the  lead,  yet  at 
the  present  moment  my  whim  is  opposed  to  my  opinion;  and 
whenever  this  is  the  case  my  opinion  generally  surrenders  at 
discretion.  I  am  determined,  therefore,  to  give  the  town  a 
peep  into  our  divan ;  and  I  shall  repeat  it  as  often  as  I  please, 
to  show  that  I  intend  to  be  sociable. 

The  other  night  "Will  "Wizard  and  Evergreen  called  upon 
me,  to  pass  away  a  few  hours  in  social  chat  and  hold  a  kind 
of  council  of  war.  To  give  a  zest  to  our  evening  I  uncorked 
a  bottle  of  London  particular,  which  has  grown  old  with  my- 
self, and  which  never  fails  to  excite  a  smile  in  the  counte- 
nances of  my  old  cronies,  to  whom  alone  it  is  devoted.  After 
some  little  time  the  conversation  turned  on  the  effect  produced 
by  our  first  number;  everyone  had  his  budget  of  informa- 
tion, and  I  assure  my  readers  that  we  laughed  most  uncere- 
moniously at  their  expense;  they  will  excuse  us  for  our  mer- 
riment— 'tis  a  way  we've  got.  Evergreen,  who  is  equally 
a  favorite  and  companion  of  young  and  old,  was  particularly 
satisfactory  in  his  details;  and  it  was  highly  amusing  to  hear 
how  different  characters  were  tickled  with  different  passages. 


Salma$ui?dl  23 

The  old  folks  were  delighted  to  find  there  was  a  bias  in  our 
junto  toward  the  "good  old  times";  and  he  particularly  no- 
ticed a  worthy  old  gentleman  of  his  acquaintance,  who  had 
been  somewhat  a  beau  in  his  day,  whose  eyes  brightened  at 
the  bare  mention  of  Kissing  Bridge.  It  recalled  to  his  recol- 
lection several  of  his  youthful  exploits,  at  that  celebrated 
pass,  on  which  he  seemed  to  dwell  with  great  pleasure  and 
self-complacency — he  hoped,  he  said,  that  the  bridge  might 
be  preserved  for  the  benefit  of  posterity  and  as  a  monument 
of  the  gallantry  of  their  grandfathers;  and  even  hinted  at 
the  expediency  of  erecting  a  toll-gate  there,  to  collect  the  for- 
feits of  the  ladies.  But  the  most  flattering  testimony  of  ap- 
probation which  our  work  has  received  was  from  an  old  lady 
who  never  laughed  but  once  in  her  life,  and  that  was  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  last  war.  She  was  detected  by  friend  An- 
thony in  the  very  fact  of  laughing  most  obstreperously  at  the 
description  of  the  little  dancing  Frenchman.  Now  it  glads 
my  very  heart  to  find  our  effusions  have  such  a  pleasing 
effect.  I  venerate  the  aged,  and  joy  whenever  it  is  in  my 
power  to  scatter  a  few  flowers  in  their  path. 

The  young  people  were  particularly  interested  in  the  ac- 
count of  the  assembly.  There  was  some  difference  of  opin- 
ion respecting  the  new  planet,  and  the  blooming  nymph  from 
the  country ;  but  as  to  the  compliment  paid  to  the  f  ascinat- 
ing  little  sylph  who  danced  so  gracefully — every  lady  modestly 
took  that  to  herself. 

Evergreen  mentioned  also  that  the  young  ladies  were 
extremely  anxious  to  learn  the  true  mode  of  managing  their 
beaux;  and  Miss  Diana  "Wearwell,  who  is  as  chaste  as  an 
icicle,  has  seen  a  few  superfluous  winters  pass  over  her  head, 
and  boasts  of  having  slain  her  thousands,  wished  to  know 
how  old  maids  were  to  do  without  husbands.  Not  that  she 
was  very  curious  about  the  matter,  she  "only  asked  for  in- 
formation." Several  ladies  expressed  their  earnest  desire 
that  we  would  not  spare  those  wooden  gentlemen  who  per- 
form the  parts  of  mutes,  or  stalking  horses,  in  their  drawing- 
rooms;  and  their  mothers  were  equally  anxious  that  he  would 


34  U/orl{8  of 

show  no  quarter  to  those  lads  of  spirit  who  now  and  then 
cut  their  bottles  to  enliven  a  tea-party  with  the  humors  of  the 
dinner-table. 

Will  Wizard  was  not  a  little  chagrined  at  having  been 
mistaken  for  a  gentleman,  "who  is  no  more  like  me,"  said 
Will,  "than  I  like  Hercules." — "I  was  well  assured,"  con- 
tinued Will,  "that  as  our  characters  were  drawn  from  nature, 
the  originals  would  be  found  in  every  society.  And  so  it  has 
happened — every  little  circle  has  its  'Sbidlikens;  and  the 
cockney,  intended  merely  as  the  representative  of  his  species, 
has  dwindled  into  an  insignificant  individual,  who,  having 
recognized  his  own  likeness,  has  foolishly  appropriated  to 
himself  a  picture  for  which  he  never  sat.  Such,  too,  has 
been  the  case  with  Ding-dong,  who  has  kindly  undertaken 
to  be  my  representative.  Not  that  I  care  much  about  the 
matter,  for  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  animal  is  a 
good  animal  enough ;  and  what  is  more,  a  fashionable  ani- 
mal— and  this  is  saying  more  than  to  call  him  a  conjurer. 
But  I  am  much  mistaken  if  he  can  claim  any  affinity  to  the 
Wizard  family. — Surely  everybody  knows  Ding  dong,  the 
gentle  Ding-dong,  who  pervades  all  space,  who  is  here  and 
there  and  everywhere ;  no  tea-party  can  be  complete  without 
Ding-dong — and  his  appearance  is  sure  to  occasion  a  smile. 
Ding-dong  has  been  the  occasion  of  much  wit  in  his  day ;  I 
have  even  seen  many  whipsters  attempt  to  be  dull  at  his  ex- 
pense who  were  as  much  inferior  to  him  as  the  gad-fly  is  to 
the  ox  that  he  buzzes  about.  Does  any  witling  want  to  dis- 
tress the  company  with  a  miserable  pun?  nobody's  name 
presents  sooner  than  Ding-dong's;  and  it  has  been  played 
upon  with  equal  skill  and  equal  entertainment  to  the  by- 
Btanders  as  Trinity  bells.  Ding-dong  is  profoundly  de- 
voted to  the  ladies,  and  highly  entitled  to  their  regard;  for  I 
know  no  man  who  makes  a  better  bow  or  talks  less  to  the 
purpose  than  Ding-dong.  Ding-dong  has  acquired  a  pro- 
digious fund  of  knowledge  by  reading  Dilworth  when  a  boy; 
and  the  other  day,  on  being  asked  who  was  the  author  of 
*  Macbeth,*  answered,  without  the  least  hesitation — Shake- 


25 

epearel  Ding-dong  has  a  quotation  for  every  day  of  the 
year,  and  every  hour  of  the  day,  and  every  minute  of  the 
hour;  but  he  often  commits  petty  larcenies  on  the  poets*- 
plucks  the  gray  hairs  of  old  Chaucer's  head  and  claps  them 
on  the  chin  of  Pope;  and  filches  Johnson's  wig  to  cover  the 
bald  plate  of  Homer — but  his  blunders  pass  undetected  by 
one  half  of  his  hearers.  Ding-dong,  it  is  true,  though  he  has 
long  wrangled  at  our  bar,  cannot  boast  much  of  his  legal 
knowledge,  nor  does  his  forensic  eloquence  entitle  him  to 
rank  with  a  Cicero  or  a  Demosthenes;  but  bating  his  pro- 
fessional deficiencies,  he  is  a  man  of  most  delectable  discourse, 
and  can  hold  forth  for  an  hour  upon  the  color  of  a  ribbon  or 
the  construction  of  a  work-bag.  Ding-dong  is  now  in  his 
fortieth  year,  or  perhaps  a  little  more;  rivals  all  the  little 
beaux  in  the  town  in  his  attentions  to  the  ladies;  is  in  a 
state  of  rapid  improvement;  and  there  is  no  doubt  but  that 
by  the  time  he  arrives  at  years  of  discretion  he  will  be  a 
very  accomplished,  agreeable  young  fellow." — I  advise  all 
clever,  good-for-nothing,  "learned  and  authentic  gentlemen" 
to  take  care  how  they  wear  this  cap,  however  well  it  fits; 
and  to  bear  in  mind  that  our  characters  are  not  individuals, 
but  species:  if,  after  this  warning,  any  person  chooses  to 
represent  Mr.  Ding-dong,  the  sin  is  at  his  own  door — we 
wash  our  hands  of  it. 

We  all  sympathized  with  "Wizard,  that  he  should  be  mis* 
taken  for  a  person  so  very  different ;  and  I  hereby  assure  my 
readers  that  William  Wizard  is  no  other  person  in  the  whole 
world  but  William  Wizard;  so  I  beg  I  may  hear  no  more 
conjectures  on  the  subject.  Will  is,  in  fact,  a  wiseacre  by 
inheritance.  The  Wizard  family  has  long  been  celebrated 
for  knowing  more  than  their  neighbors,  particularly  con- 
cerning their  neighbors'  affairs.  They  were  anciently 
called  Josselin;  but  Will's  greatuncle,  by  the  father's 
aide,  having  been  accidentally  burned  for  a  witch  in  Con- 
necticut, in  consequence  of  blowing  up  his  own  house  in 
a  philosophical  experiment,  the  family,  in  order  to  perpetu- 
ate the  recollection  of  this  memorable  circumstance,  as- 

*  *  *  B  VOL.  V. 


26  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi) 

Burned  the  name  and  arms  of  Wizard;  and  have  borne 
them  ever  since. 

In  the  course  of  my  customary  morning's  walk  I  stopped 
in  a  book-store  which  is  noted  for  being  the  favorite  haunt 
of  a  number  of  literati,  some  of  whom  rank  high  in  the 
opinion  of  the  world  and  others  rank  equally  high  in  their 
own.  Here  I  found  a  knot  of  queer  fellows  listening  to  one 
of  their  company,  who  was  reading  our  paper;  I  particularly 
noticed  Mr.  Ichabod  Fungus  among  the  number. 

Fungus  is  one  of  those  fidgeting,  meddling  quidnuncs 
with  which  this  unhappy  city  is  pestered;  one  of  your  "Q  in 
a  corner  fellows,"  who  speaks  volumes  with  a  wink — conveys 
most  portentous  information  by  laying  his  finger  beside  his 
nose — and  is  always  smelling  a  rat  in  the  most  trifling  occur- 
rence. He  listened  to  our  work  with  the  most  frigid  gravity 
— every  now  and  then  gave  a  mysterious  shrug — a  humph — 
or  a  screw  of  the  mouth ;  and  on  being  asked  his  opinion  at 
the  conclusion,  said  he  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  it — 
he  hoped  it  did  not  mean  anything  against  the  government 
— that  no  lurking  treason  was  couched  in  all  this  talk.  These 
were  dangerous  times — times  of  plot  and  conspiracy ;  he  did 
not  at  all  like  those  stars  after  Mr.  Jefferson's  name,  they 
had  an  air  of  concealment.  Dick  Paddle,  who  was  one  of 
the  group,  undertook  our  cause.  Dick  is  known  to  the  world 
as  being  a  most  knowing  genius,  who  can  see  as  far  as  any- 
body— into  a  millstone;  maintains,  in  the  teeth  of  all  argu- 
ment, that  a  spade  is  a  spade;  and  will  labor  a  good  hah5 
hour  by  St.  Paul's  clock  to  establish  a  self-evident  fact. 
Dick  assured  old  Fungus  that  those  stars  merely  stood  for 
Mr.  Jefferson's  red  what-d*ye-call-'>ems;  and  that  so  far 
from  a  conspiracy  against  their  peace  and  prosperity,  the 
authors,  whom  he  knew  very  well,  were  only  expressing 
their  high  respect  for  them.  The  old  man  shook  his  head, 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  gave  a  mysterious  Lord  Burleigh 
nod,  said  he  hoped  it  might  be  so,  but  he  was  by  no  means 
satisfied  with  this  attack  upon  the  President's  breeches,  as 
"thereby  hangs  a  tale." 


MR.  WILSON'S  CONCERT 

BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

IN  my  register  of  indisputable  facts  I  have  noted  it  con- 
spicuously that  all  modern  music  is  but  the  mere  dregs  and 
draining  of  the  ancient,  and  that  all  the  spirit  and  vigor  of 
harmony  has  entirely  evaporated  in  the  lapse  of  ages.  Oh! 
for  the  chant  of  the  Naiades  and  Dryades,  the  shell  of  the 
Tritons  and  the  sweet  warblings  of  the  mermaids  of  ancient 
days!  Where  now  shall  we  seek  the  Amphion,  who  built 
Walls  with  a  turn  of  his  hurdy-gurdy,  the  Orpheus  who  made 
stones  to  whistle  about  his  ears,  and  trees  hop  in  a  country 
dance,  by  the  mere  quavering  of  his  fiddlestick!  Ah!  had  I 
the  power  of  the  former  how  soon  would  I  build  up  the  new 
City  Hall,  and  save  the  cash  and  credit  of  the  Corporation; 
and  how  much  sooner  would  I  build  myself  a  snug  house  in 
Broadway— nor  would  it  be  the  first  time  a  house  has  been 
obtained  there  for  a  song.  In  my  opinion,  the  Scotch  bag- 
pipe is  the  only  instrument  that  rivals  the  ancient  lyre;  and 
I  am  surprised  it  should  be  almost  the  only  one  entirely  ex- 
cluded from  our  concerts. 

Talking  of  concerts  reminds  me  of  that  given  a  few  nights 
since  by  Mr.  Wilson,  at  which  I  had  the  misfortune  of  being 
present.  It  was  attended  by  a  numerous  company,  and  gave 
great  satisfaction,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  judge  from  the 
frequent  gapings  of  the  audience;  though  I  will  not  risk  my 
credit  as  a  connoisseur  by  saying  whether  they  proceeded 
from  wonder  or  a  violent  inclination  to  doze.  I  was  de- 
lighted to  find  in  the  mazes  of  the  crowd  my  particular  friend 
Snivers,  who  had  put  on  his  cognoscenti  phiz — he  being, 
according  to  his  own  account,  a  profound  adept  in  the 
science  of  music.  He  can  tell  a  crotchet  at  first  sight;  and, 
like  a  true  Englishman,  is  delighted  with  the  plum-pudding 
rotundity  of  a  semibref ;  and,  in  short,  boasts  of  having  in- 


28  U/orKs  of 

continently  climbed  up  Paff's  musical  tree,  which  hangs 
every  day  upon  the  poplar,  from  the  fundamental  concord 
to  the  fundamental  major  discord ;  and  so  on  from  branch  to 
branch,  until  he  reached  the  very  top,  where  he  sung  "Rule 
Britannia,"  clapped  his  wings,  and  then — came  down  again. 
Like  all  true  transatlantic  judges,  he  suffers  most  horribly 
at  our  musical  entertainments,  and  assures  me,  that  what 
with  the  confounded  scraping,  and  scratching,  and  grating 
of  our  fiddlers,  he  thinks  the  sitting  out  one  of  our  concerts 
tantamount  to  the  punishment  of  that  unfortunate  saint  who 
was  frittered  in  two  with  a  hand-saw. 

The  concert  was  given  in  the  tea-room  at  the  City  Hotel ; 
an  apartment  admirably  calculated,  by  its  dingy  walls,  beau- 
tifully marbled  with  smoke,  to  show  off  the  dresses  and  com- 
plexions of  the  ladies;  and  by  the  flatness  of  its  ceiling  to 
repress  those  impertinent  reverberations  of  the  music,  which, 
whatever  others  may  foolishly  assert,  are,  as  Snivers  says, 
"no  better  than  repetitions  of  old  stories." 

Mr.  Wilson  gave  me  infinite  satisfaction  by  the  gentility 
of  his  demeanor,  and  the  roguish  looks  he  now  and  then  cast 
at  the  ladies ;  but  we  fear  his  excessive  modesty  threw  him 
into  some  little  confusion,  for  he  absolutely  forgot  himself, 
and  in  the  whole  course  of  his  entrances  and  exits  never 
once  made  his  bow  to  the  audience.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever, I  think  he  has  a  fine  voice,  sings  with  great  taste,  and 
is  a  very  modest,  good-looking  little  man ;  but  I  beg  leave  to 
repeat  the  advice  so  often  given  by  the  illustrious  tenants  of 
the  theatrical  sky-parlor  to  the  gentlemen  who  are  charged 
with  the  "nice  conduct"  of  chairs  and  tables — "Make  a  bow, 
Johnny — Johnny,  make  a  bow!" 

I  cannot,  on  this  occasion,  but  express  my  surprise  that 
certain  amateurs  should  be  so  frequently  at  concerts,  con- 
sidering what  agonies  they  suffer  while  a  piece  of  music  is 
playing.  I  defy  any  man  of  common  humanity,  and  who 
has  not  the  heart  of  a  Choctaw,  to  contemplate  the  counte- 
nance of  one  of  these  unhappy  victims  of  a  fiddlestick  without 
feeling  a  sentiment  of  compassion.  His  whole  visage  is  dis- 


Salma$ui?df  29 

torted;  he  rolls  up  his  eyes,  as  M'Sycophant  says,  "like  a 
duck  in  thunder,"  and  the  music  seems  to  operate  upon  him 
like  a  fit  of  the  cholic :  his  very  bowels  seem  to  sympathize 
at  every  twang  of  the  catgut,  as  if  he  heard  at  that  moment 
the  waitings  of  the  helpless  animal  that  had  been  sacrificed 
to  harmony.  Nor  does  the  hero  of  the  orchestra  seena  less 
affected;  as  soon  as  the  signal  is  given  he  seizes  his  fiddle- 
stick, makes  a  most  horrible  grimace,  scowls  fiercely  upon 
his  music-book,  as  though  he  would  grin  every  crotchet  and 
quaver  out  of  countenance.  I  have  sometimes  particularly 
noticed  a  hungry-looking  Gaul,  who  torments  a  huge  bass- 
viol,  and  who  is,  doubtless,  the  original  of  the  famous 
*'  Raw-head-and-bloody-bones "  so  potent  in  frightening 
naughty  children. 

The  person  who  played  the  French  horn  was  very  excel- 
lent in  his  way,  but  Snivers  could  not  relish  his  performance, 
having  some  time  since  heard  a  gentleman  amateur  in  Gotham 
play  a  solo  on  his  proboscis  in  a  style  infinitely  superior — 
Snout,  the  bellows-mender,  never  turned  his  wind  instrument 
more  musically;  nor  did  the  celebrated  "knight  of  the  burn- 
ing lamp"  ever  yield  more  exquisite  entertainment  with  his 
nose;  this  gentleman  had  latterly  ceased  to  exhibit  this  pro- 
digious accomplishment,  having,  it  was  whispered,  hired  out 
his  snout  to  a  ferryman  who  had  lost  his  conchshell — the 
consequence  was  that  he  did  not  show  his  nose  in  company 
so  frequently  as  before. 

SITTING  late  the  other  evening  in  my  elbow-chair,  indulg- 
ing in  that  kind  of  indolent  meditation  which  I  consider  the 
perfection  of  human  bliss,  I  was  roused  from  my  reverie  by 
the  entrance  of  an  old  servant  in  the  Cockloft  livery,  who 
handed  me  a  letter,  containing  the  following  address  from 
my  cousin  and  old  college  chum,  Pindar  Cockloft. 

Honest  Andrew,  as  he  delivered  it,  informed  me  that  his 
master,  who  resides  a  little  way  from  town,  on  reading  a 
small  pamphlet  in  a  neat  yellow  cover,  rubbed  his  hands 
with  symptoms  of  great  satisfaction,  called  for  his  favorite 


30  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ir)$top 

Chinese  inkstand,  with  two  sprawling  mandarins  for  its 
supporters,  and  wrote  the  letter  which  he  had  the  honor  to 
present  me. 

As  I  foresee  my  cousin  will  one  day  become  a  great  fav- 
orite with  the  public,  and  as  I  know  him  to  be  somewhat 
punctilious  as  it  respects  etiquette,  I  shall  take  this  oppor- 
tunity to  gratify  the  old  gentleman  by  giving  him  a  proper 
introduction  to  the  fashionable  world.  The  Cockloft  family  > 
to  which  I  have  the  comfort  of  being  related,  has  been  fruitful 
in  old  bachelors  and  humorists,  as  will  be  perceived  when  I 
come  to  treat  more  of  its  history.  My  cousin  Pindar  is  one 
of  its  most  conspicuous  members — he  is  now  in  his  fifty- 
eighth  year — is  a  bachelor,  partly  through  choice  and  partly 
through  chance,  and  an  oddity  of  the  first  water.  Half  his 
life  has  been  employed  in  writing  odes,  sonnets,  epigrams, 
and  elegies,  which  he  seldom  shows  to  anybody  but  myself 
after  they  are  written;  and  all  the  old  chests,  drawers,  and 
chair-bottoms  in  the  house,  teem  with  his  productions. 

In  his  younger  days  he  figured  as  a  dashing  blade  in  the 
great  world ;  and  no  young  fellow  of  the  town  wore  a  longer 
pig-tail,  or  carried  more  buckram  in  his  skirts.  From  six- 
teen to  thirty  he  was  continually  in  love,  and  during  that 
period,  to  use  his  own  words,  he  bescribbled  more  paper 
than  would  serve  the  theater  for  snow-storms  a  whole  season. 
The  evening  of  his  thirtieth  birthday,  as  he  sat  by  the  fire- 
side, as  much  in  love  as  ever  was  man  in  this  world,  and 
writing  the  name  of  his  mistress  in  the  ashes,  with  an  old 
tongs  that  had  lost  one  of  its  legs,  he  was  seized  with  a 
whim- wham  that  he  was  an  old  fool  to  be  in  love  at  his  time 
of  life.  It  was  ever  one  of  the  Cockloft  characteristics  to 
strike  to  whim ;  and  had  Pindar  stood  out  on  this  occasion  he 
would  have  brought  the  reputation  of  his  mother  in  question. 
From  that  time  he  gave  up  all  particular  attentions  to  the 
ladies ;  and  though  he  still  loves  their  company,  he  has  never 
been  known  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  common  courtesy  in  his 
intercourse  with  them.  He  was  the  life  and  ornament  of 
our  family  circle  in  town,  until  the  epoch  of  the  French  revo- 


31 

lution,  which  sent  so  many  unfortunate  dancing-masters 
from  their  country  to  polish  and  enlighten  our  hemisphere. 
This  was  a  sad  time  for  Pindar,  who  had  taken  a  genuine 
Cockloft  prejudice  against  everything  French,  ever  since  he 
was  brought  to  death's  door  by  a  ragout:  he  groaned  at  Ca 
Ira,  and  the  Marseilles  Hymn  had  much  the  same  effect  upon 
him  that  sharpening  a  knife  on  a  dry  whetstone  has  upon 
some  people — it  set  his  teeth  chattering.  He  might  in  time 
have  been  reconciled  to  these  rubs,  had  not  the  introduction 
of  French  cockades  on  the  hats  of  our  citizens  absolutely 
thrown  him  into  a  fever.  The  first  time  he  saw  an  instance 
of  this  kind,  he  came  home  with  great  precipitation,  packed 
up  his  trunk,  his  old-fashioned  writing-desk,  and  his  Chinese 
inkstand,  and  made  a  kind  of  growling  retreat  to  Cockloft 
Hall,  where  he  has  resided  ever  since. 

My  cousin  Pindar  is  of  a  mercurial  disposition — a  humorist 
without  ill-nature — he  is  of  the  true  gunpowder  temper — 
one  flash  and  all  is  over.  It  is  true  when  the  wind  is  easterly, 
or  the  gout  gives  him  a  gentle  twinge,  or  he  hears  of  any 
new  successes  of  the  French,  he  will  become  a  little  splenetic ; 
and  heaven  help  the  man,  and  more  particularly  the  woman, 
that  crosses  his  humor  at  that  moment — she  is  sure  to  receive 
no  quarter.  These  are  the  most  sublime  moments  of  Pindar. 
I  swear  to  you,  dear  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  would  not  lose 
one  of  these  splenetic  bursts  for  the  best  wig  in  my  ward- 
robe; even  though  it  were  proved  to  be  the  identical  wig 
worn  by  the  sage  Linkum  Fidelius,  when  he  demonstrated 
before  the  whole  university  of  Leyden  that  it  was  possible 
to  make  bricks  without  straw.  I  have  seen  the  old  gentle- 
man blaze  forth  such  a  volcanic  explosion  of  wit,  ridicule, 
and  satire,  that  I  was  almost  tempted  to  believe  him  inspired. 
But  these  sallies  only  lasted  for  a  moment,  and  passed  like 
summer  clouds  over  the  benevolent  sunshine  which  ever 
warmed  his  heart  and  lighted  up  his  countenance. 

Time,  though  it  has  dealt  roughly  with  his  person,  has 
passed  lightly  over  the  graces  of  his  mind,  and  left  him  in 
full  possession  of  all  the  sensibilities  of  youth.  His  eye 


62  U/orl^s  of  U/agI?ii?$toi) 

kindles  at  the  relation  of  a  noble  and  generous  action,  his 
heart  melts  at  the  story  of  distress,  and  he  is  still  a  warm 
admirer  of  the  fair.  Like  all  old  bachelors,  however,  he 
looks  back  with  a  fond  and  lingering  eye  on  the  period  of  his 
boyhood ;  and  would  sooner  suffer  the  pangs  of  matrimony 
than  acknowledge  that  the  world,  or  anything  in  it,  is  half 
so  clever  as  it  was  in  those  good  old  times  that  are  "gone  by. " 
I  believe  I  have  already  mentioned  that  with  all  his  good 
qualities  he  is  a  humorist,  and  a  humorist  of  the  highest 
order.  He  has  some  of  the  most  intolerable  whim-whams  I 
ever  met  with  in  my  life,  and  his  oddities  are  sufficient  to 
eke  out  a  hundred  tolerable  originals.  But  I  will  not  enlarge 
on  them — enough  has  been  told  to  excite  a  desire  to  know 
more ;  and  I  am  much  mistaken  if,  in  the  course  of  half  a 
dozen  of  our  numbers,  he  don't  tickle,  plague,  please,  and 
perplex  the  whole  town,  and  completely  establish  his  claim 
to  the  laureateship  he  has  solicited,  and  with  which  we 
hereby  invest  him,  recommending  him  and  his  effusions  to 
public  reverence  and  respect. 

LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF. 


TO  LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF,  ESQ. 

DEAR  LAUNCE — 

As  I  find  you  have  taken  the  quill, 
To  put  our  gay  town  and  its  fair  under  drill, 
I  offer  my  hopes  for  success  to  your  cause, 
And  send  you  unvarnish'd  my  mite  of  applause. 

Ah,  Launce,  this  poor  town  has  been  wofully  fash'd; 
Has  long  been  be-Frenchman'd,  be-cockney'd,  betrash'd; 
And  our  ladies  be-devil'd,  bewilder'd  astray, 
From  the  rules  of  their  grandames  have  wander'd  away. 
No  longer  that  modest  demeanor  we  meet, 
Which  whilom  the  eyes  of  our  fathers  did  greet; 
No  longer  be-mobbled,  be-ruffled,  be-quill'd, 
Be-powder'd,  be-hooded,  be-patch'd,  and  be-frilFd — 


Salma$updi  33 

No  longer  our  fair  ones  their  grograms  display, 
And,  stiff  in  brocade,  strut  "like  castles"  away. 

Oh,  how  fondly  my  soul  forms  departed  have  traced, 
When  our  ladies  in  stays,  and  in  bodice  well  laced, 
When  bishop'd,  and  cushion'd,  and  hoop'd  to  the  chin, 
Well  callash'd  without,  and  well  bolster 'd  within ; 
All  cased  in  their  buckrams,  from  crown  down  to  tail, 
Like  O'Brallagan's  mistress,  were  shaped  like  a  pail. 

Well — peace  to  those  fashions — the  joy  of  our  eyes- 
Tempora  mutantur — new  f ollies  will  rise ; 
Yet,  "like  joys  that  are  past,"  they  still  crowd  on  the  mind, 
In  moments  of  thought,  as  the  soul  looks  behind. 

Sweet  days  of  our  boyhood,  gone  by,  my  dear  Launce, 
Like  the  shadows  of  night,  or  the  forms  in  a  trance ; 
Yet  oft  we  retrace  those  bright  visions  again, 
Nos  mutamur,  'tis  true — but  those  visions  remain. 
I  recall  with  delight  how  my  bosom  would  creep, 
When  some  delicate  foot  from  its  chamber  would  peep! 
And  when  I  a  neat-stocking' d  ankle  could  spy, 
— By  the  sages  of  old,  I  was  rapt  to  the  sky ! 
All  then  was  retiring — was  modest-=-discreet ; 
The  beauties,  all  shrouded,  were  left  to  conceit; 
To  the  visions  which  fancy  would  form  in  her  eye, 
Of  graces  that  snug  in  soft  ambush  would  lie ; 
And  the  heart,  like  the  poets,  in  thought  would  pursue 
The  elysium  of  bliss,  which  was  veil'd  from  its  view. 

We  are  old- fashioned  fellows,  our  nieces  will  say: 
Old-fashion' d,  indeed,  coz — and  swear  it  they  may — 
For  I  freely  confess  that  it  yields  me  no  pride 
To  see  them  all  blaze  what  their  mothers  would  hide. 
To  see  them,  all  shivering,  some  cold  winter's  day, 
So  lavish  their  beauties  and  graces  display, 
And  give  to  each  fopling  that  offers  his  hand, 
Like  Moses  from  Pisgah — a  peep  at  the  land. 

But  a  truce  with  complaining — the  object  in  view 
Is  to  offer  my  help  in  the  work  you  pursue ; 
And  as  your  effusions  and  labors  sublime 


34.  U/orl{8  of 

May  need,  now  and  then,  a  few  touches  of  rhyme, 

I  humbly  solicit,  as  cousin  and  friend, 

A  quiddity,  quirk,  or  remonstrance  to  send : 

Or  should  you  a  laureate  want  in  your  plan, 

By  the  muff  of  my  grandmother,  I  am  your  man ! 

You  must  know  I  have  got  a  poetical  mill, 

Which  with  odd  lines,  and  couplets,  and  triplets  I  fill, 

And  a  poem  I  grind,  as  from  rags  white  and  blue 

The  paper-mill  yields  you  a  sheet  fair  and  new. 

I  can  grind  down  an  ode,  or  an  epic  that's  long, 

Into  sonnet,  acrostic,  conundrum,  or  song ; 

As  to  dull  hudibrastic,  so  boasted  of  late, 

The  doggerel  discharge  of  some  muddled  brain'd  pate, 

I  can  grind  it  by  wholesale — and  give  it  its  point, 

With  billingsgate  dish'd  up  in  rhymes  out  of  joint. 

I  have  read  all  the  poets — and  got  them  by  heart, 
Can  slit  them,  and  twist  them,  and  take  them  apart ; 
Can  cook  up  an  ode  out  of  patches  and  shreds, 
To  muddle  my  readers,  and  bother  their  heads. 
Old  Homer,  and  Virgil,  and  Ovid  I  scan, 
Anacreon,  and  Sappho,  who  changed  to  a  swan ; 
Iambics  and  sapphics  I  grind  at  my  will, 
And  with  ditties  of  love  every  noddle  can  fill. 

Oh,  'twould  do  your  heart  good,  Launce,  to  see  my  mill 

grind 

Old  stuff  into  verses,  and  poems  refin'd;— 
Dan  Spencer,  Dan  Chaucer,  those  poets  of  old, 
Though  cover'd  with  dust,  are  yet  true  sterling  gold; 
I  can  grind  off  their  tarnish,  and  bring  them  to  view, 
New  model'd,  new  mill'd,  and  improved  in  their  hue. 

But  I  promise  no  more — only  give  me  the  place, 
And  I'll  warrant  I'll  fill  it  with  credit  and  grace; 
By  the  living!  I'll  figure  and  cut  you  a  dash 
— As  bold  as  Will  Wizard,  or  'Sbidlikensflash! 

PINDAB  COCKLOFT. 


ADVERTISEMENT 

PERHAPS  the  most  fruitful  source  of  mortification  to  a 
merry  writer  who,  for  the  amusement  of  himself  and  the 
public,  employs  his  leisure  in  sketching  odd  characters  from 
imagination,  is,  that  he  cannot  flourish  his  pen,  but  every 
Jack-pudding  imagines  it  is  pointed  directly  at  himself.  He 
cannot,  in  his  gambols,  throw  a  fool's  cap  among  the  crowd, 
but  every  queer  fellow  insists  upon  putting  it  on  his  own 
head ;  or  chalk  an  outlandish  figure,  but  every  outlandish 
genius  is  eager  to  write  his  own  name  under  it.  However 
we  may  be  mortified  that  these  men  should  each  individ- 
ually think  himself  of  sufficient  consequence  to  engage  our 
attention,  we  should  not  care  a  rush  about  it,  if  they  did  not 
get  into  a  passion  and  complain  of  having  been  ill-used. 

It  is  not  in  our  hearts  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  one  single 
mortal,  by  holding  him  up  to  public  ridicule ;  and  if  it  were, 
we  lay  it  down  as  one  of  our  indisputable  facts  that  no  man 
can  be  made  ridiculous  but  by  his  own  folly.  As,  however, 
we  are  aware  that  when  a  man  by  chance  gets  a  thwack  in 
the  crowd  he  is  apt  to  suppose  the  blow  was  intended  ex- 
clusively for  himself,  and  so  fall  into  unreasonable  anger, 
we  have  determined  to  let  these  crusty  gentry  know  what 
kind  of  satisfaction  they  are  to  expect  from  us.  We  are  re- 
solved not  to  fight,  for  three  special  reasons;  first,  because 
fighting  is  at  all  events  extremely  troublesome  and  incon- 
venient, particularly  at  this  season  of  the  year;  second, 
because  if  either  of  us  should  happen  to  be  killed,  it  would 
be  a  great  loss  to  the  public,  and  rob  them  of  many  a  good 
laugh  we  have  in  store  for  their  amusement;  and  third, 
because  if  we  should  chance  to  kill  our  adversary,  as  is  most 
likely,  for  we  can  every  one  of  us  split  balls  upon  razors  and 
snuff  candles,  it  would  be  a  loss  to  our  publisher,  by  depriving 
him  of  a  good  customer.  If  any  gentleman  casuist  will  give 
three  as  good  reasons  for  fighting,  we  promise  fohri  a  com- 
plete set  of  Salmagundi  for  nothing. 


of  U/asl?iQ^toi) 

But  though  we  do  not  fight  in  our  own  proper  persons,  let 
it  not  be  supposed  that  we  will  not  give  ample  satisfaction  to 
ali  those  who  may  choose  to  demand  it;  for  this  would  be  a 
mistake  of  the  first  magnitude,  and  lead  very  valiant  gentle- 
men perhaps  into  what  is.  called  a  quandary.  It  would  be  a 
thousand  and  one  pities  that  any  honest  man,  after  taking 
to  himself  the  cap  and  bells  which  we  merely  offered  to  his 
acceptance,  should  not  have  the  privilege  of  being  cudgeled 
into  the  bargain.  "We  pride  ourselves  upon  giving  satisfac- 
tion in  every  department  of  our  paper;  and  to  fill  that  of 
fighting  have  engaged  two  of  those  strapping  heroes  of  the 
theater,  who  figure  in  the  retinues  of  our  ginger-bread  kings 
and  queens;  now  hurry  an  old  stuff  petticoat  on  their  backs, 
and  strut  senators  of  Rome,  or  aldermen  of  London;  and 
now  be-whisker  their  muffin  faces  with  burned  cork,  and 
swagger  right  valiant  warriors,  armed  cap-a-pie,  in  buckram. 
Should,  therefore,  any  great  little  man  about  town  take 
offense  at  our  good-natured  villainy,  though  we  intend  to 
offend  nobody  under  heaven,  he  will  please  to  apply  at  any 
hour  after  twelve  o'clock,  as  our  champions  will  then  be  off 
duty  at  the  theater  and  ready  for  anything.  They  have 
promised  to  fight  "with  or  without  balls" — to  give  two 
tweaks  of  the  nose  for  one — to  submit  to  be  kicked,  and  to 
cudgel  their  applicant  most  heartily  in  return;  this  being 
what  we  understand  by  "the  satisfaction  of  a  gentleman ," 


No.   III.— FRIDAY,   FEBRUARY    13,    1807 

FROM  3IY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

As  I  delight  m  everything  novel  and  eccentric,  and  would 
at  any  time  give  an  old  coat  tor  a  new  idea,  I  am  particularly 
attentive  to  the  manners  and  conversation  of  strangers,  and 
scarcely  ever  a  traveler  enters  this  city,  whose  appearance 
promise*  anything  original,  but  by  seme  means  or  another 
1  form  an  acquaintance  with  him.  I  must  confess  I  often 


37 

suffer  manifold  afflictions  from  the  intimacies  thus  con- 
Sraoted:  my .  curiosity  is  frequently  punished  by  the  stupid 
details  of  a  blockhead  or  the  shallow  verbosity  of  a  coxcomb. 
Now  I  would  prefer  at  any  time  to  travel  with  an  ox-team 
through  a  Carolina  sand-flat  rather  than  plod  through  a 
heavy  unmeaning  conversation  with  the  former;  and  as  to 
the  latter,  I  would  sooner  hold  sweet  converse  with  the  wheeJ 
of  a  knife  grinder  than  endure  his  monotonous  chattering. 
In  fact,  the  strangers  who  flock  to  this  most  pleasant  of  all 
earthly  cities  are  generally  mere  birds  of  passage,  whose 
plumage  is  often  gay  enough,  I  own,  but  their  notes,  "heaven 
save  the  mark,"  are  as  unmusical  as  those  of  that  classic 
night  bird  which  the  ancients  humorously  selected  as  the 
emblem  of  wisdom.  Those  from  the  south,  it  is  true,  enter- 
tain me  with  their  horses,  equipages,  and  puns;  and  it  is  ex- 
cessively pleasant  to  hear  a  couple  of  these  four-in-hand 
gentlemen  detail  their  exploits  over  a  bottle.  Those  from 
the  east  have  often  induced  me  to  doubt  the  existence  of  the 
wise  men  of  yore,  who  are  said  to  have  flourished  in  that 
quarter;  and  as  for  those  from  parts  beyond  seas— oh!  my 
masters,  ye  shall  hear  more  from  me  anon.  Heavsn  help 
this  unhappy  town! — hath  it  not  goslings  enow  of  its  own 
hatching  and  rearing  that  it  must  be  overwhelmed  by  such 
an  inundation  of  ganders  from  other  climes?  I  would  not 
have  any  of  my  courteous  and  gentle  readers  suppose  that  I 
am  running  amuck,  full  tilt,  cut  and  slash,  upon  all  foreign- 
ers indiscriminately.  I  have  no  national  antipathies,  though 
related  to  the  Cockloft  family.  As  to  honest  John  Buil^  I 
shake  him  heartily  by  the  hand,  assuring  him  that  1  love  his 
jolly  countenance,  and  moreover  am  lineally  descended  from 
him;  in  proof  of  which  1  allege  my  invincible  predilection 
for  roast  beef  and  pudding.  I  therefore  look  upon  all  his 
children  as  my  kinsmen;  and  I  beg  when  I  tickle  a  cockney 
I  may  not  be  understood  as  trimming  an  Englishman;  they 
being  very  distinct  animals,  as  I  shall  clearly  demonstrate  in 
a  future  number.  If  any  one  wishes  to  know  my  opinion  of 
the  Irish  and  Scotch,  he  may  find  it  in  the  characters  of  those 


88 

two  nations,  drawn  by  the  first  advocate  of  the  age.  But 
the  French,  1  must  confess,  are  my  favorites  $  and  I  have 
taken  more  pains  to  argue  my  cousin  Pindar  out  of  his 
antipathy  to  them  than  I  ever  did  about  any  other  thing. 
"When,  therefore.  I  choose  to  hunt  a  Monsieur  for  my  own 
particular  amusement,  I  beg  it  may  not  be  asserted  that  I 
intend  him  as  a  representative  of  his  countrymen  at  large. 
Far  from  this — I  love  the  nation,  as  being  a  nation  of  right 
inerry  fellows,  possessing  the  true  secret  of  being  happy; 
which  is  nothing  more  than  thinking  of  nothing,  talking 
about  anything,  and  laughing  at  everything.  I  mean  only 
to  tune  up  those  little  thing-o-mys,  who  represent  nobody  but 
themselves;  who  have  no  national  trait  about  them  but  their 
language,  and  who  hop  about  our  town  iin  swarms  like  Httl© 
toads  after  a  shower. 

Among  the  few  strangers  whose  acquaintance  has  enter- 
tained me,  I  particularly  rank  the  magnanimous  Mi/stapha 
Rub-a-dub  Keli  Khan,  a  most  illustrious  captain  of  a  ketch, 
who  figured  some  time  since,  in  our  fashionable  circles,  at 
the  head  of  a  ragged  regiment  of  Tripolitasi  prisoners.  His 
conversation  was  to  me  a  perpetual  toast — I  chuckled  with 
inward  pleasure  at  Ms  wtdmsicali  mistakes  and  unaffected 
observations  on  men  and  manners  i  and  I  rolled  each  odd 
conceit  "like  a  sweet  morsel  under  my  tongue  *' 

Whether  Mustapha  was  captivated  by  my  iron-bound 
physiognomy  or  flattered  by  the  attentions  which  I  paid  him 
)  won't  determine  °  but  I  so  t&g  gained  his  confidence  that, 
at  his  departure,  he  presented  me  with  a  bundle  of  papers, 
containing,  among  other  articles,  several  copies  of  letters 
which  he  had  written  to  Ms  friends  at  Tripoli. — The  follow 
ing  is  a  translation  of  one  of  them  — The  original  is  in 
Arabic-Greek;  but  by  the  assistance  of  Will  Wizard,  who 
understands  aU.  languages,  not  excepting  that  manufactured 
by  Pgalmanazar,  I  have  been  enabled  to  accomplish  a  toler- 
able translation ?  We  should  have  found  little  difficulty  in 
rendering  it  into  English,  had  it  not  been  for  Mustapha'ai 
confounded  pot-hooks  and  trammels. 


39 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KELI 

KHAN, 

CAPTAIN  OP  A  KETCH,  TO  A8EM  HACCHEM,  PRINCIPAL  SLAVE- 
DRIVER  TO  HIS  HIGHNESS  THE  BASHAW  OF  TRIPOLI 

THOU  wilt  learn  from  this  letter,  most  illustrious  disciple 
of  Mahomet,  that  I  have  for  some  time  resided  in  New  York; 
the  most  polished,  vast,  and  magnificent  city  of  the  United 
States  of  America,,  But  what  to  me  are  its  delights!  I 
wander  a  captive  through  its  splendid  streets,  I  turn  a  heavy 
eye  on  every  rising  day  that  beholds  me  banished  from  my 
country.  The  Christian  husbands  here  lament  most  bitterly 
any  short  absence  from  home,  though  they  leave  but  one 
wife  behind  to  lament  their  departure;  what  then  must  be 
the  feelings  of  thy  unhappy  kinsman,  while  thus  lingering 
at  an  immeasurable  distance  from  three-and-twenty  of  the 
most  lovely  and  obedient  wives  in  all  Tripoli!  Oh,  Allah! 
shall  thy  servant  never  again  return  to  his  native  land,  nor 
behold  his  beloved  wives,  who  beam  on  his  memory  beautiful 
as  the  rosy  morn  of  the  east,  and  graceful  as  Mahomet's 
camel! 

Yet  beautiful,  oh,  most  puissant  slave-driver,  as  are  my 
wives,  they  are  far  exceeded  by  the  women  of  this  country. 
Even  those  who  run  about  the  streets  with  bare  arms  and 
necks  (et  cetera),  whose  habiliments  are  too  scanty  to  protect 
them  either  from  the  inclemency  of  the  season,  or  the  scruti- 
nizing glances  of  the  curious,  and  who  it  would  seem  belong 
to  nobody,  are  lovely  as  the  houris  that  people  the  elysium  of 
true  believers.  If,  then,  such  as  run  wild  in  the  highways, 
and  whom  no  one  cares  to  appropriate,  are  thus  beauteous, 
what  must  be  the  charms  of  those  who  are  shut  up  in  the 
seraglios  and  never  permitted  to  go  abroad !  surely  the  region 
of  beauty,  the  valley  of  the  graces,  can  contain  nothing  so 
inimitably  fair! 


40  U/orKs  of 

But,  notwithstanding  the  charms  of  these  infidel  women, 
they  are  apt  to  have  one  fault,  which  is  extremely  trouble- 
some and  inconvenient.  "Wouldst  thou  believe  it,  Asem,  I 
have  been  positively  assured  by  a  famous  dervise,  or  doctor 
as  he  is  here  called,  that  at  least  one-fifth  part  of  them — have 
souls!  Incredible  as  it  may  seem  to  thee,  I  am  the  more  in- 
clined to  believe  them  in  possession  of  this  monstrous  super- 
fluity, from  my  own  little  experience,  and  from  the  informa- 
tion which  I  have  derived  from  others.  In  walking  the 
streets  I  have  actually  seen  an  exceeding  good-looking  woman 
with  soul  enough  to  box  her  husband's  ears  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent, and  my  very  whiskers  trembled  with  indignation  at  the 
abject  state  of  these  wretched  infidels.  I  am  told,  moreover, 
that  some  of  the  women  have  soul  enough  to  usurp  the 
breeches  of  the  men,  but  these  I  suppose  are  married  and 
kept  close,  for  I  have  not,  in  my  rambles,  met  with  any  so 
extravagantly  accoutered ;  others,  I  am  informed,  have  soul 
enough  to  swear! — yea!  by  the  beard  of  the  great  Omar, 
who  prayed  three  times  to  each  of  the  one  hundred  and 
twenty-four  thousand  prophets  of  our  most  holy  faith,  and 
who  never  swore  but  once  in  his  life — they  actually  swear ! 

Get  thee  to  the  mosque,  good  Asem!  return  thanks  to 
our  most  holy  prophet  that  he  has  been  thus  mindful  of  the 
comfort  of  all  true  Mussulmans,  and  has  given  them  wives 
with  no  more  souls  than  cats  and  dogs  and  other  necessary 
animals  of  the  household. 

Thou  wilt  doubtless  be  anxious  to  learn  our  reception  in 
this  country,  and  how  we  were  treated  by  a  people  whom 
we  have  been  accustomed  to  consider  as  unenlightened  bar- 
barians. 

On  landing,  we  were  waited  upon  to  our  lodgings,  I  sup- 
pose according  to  the  directions  of  the  municipality,  by  a 
vast  and  respectable  escort  of  boys  and  negroes ;  who  shouted 
and  threw  up  their  hats,  doubtless  to  do  honor  to  the  mag- 
nanimous Mustapha,  captain  of  a  ketch ;  they  were  some- 
what ragged  and  dirty  in  their  equipments,  but  this  we  at- 
tributed to  their  republican  simplicity.  One  of  them,  in  the 


41 

zeal  of  admiration,  threw  an  old  shoe,  which  gave  thy  friend 
rather  an  ungentle  salutation  on  one  side  of  the  head,  where- 
at I  was  not  a  little  offended,  until  the  interpreter  informed 
us  that  this  was  the  customary  manner  in  which  great  men 
were  honored  in  this  country;  and  that  the  more  distin- 
guished they  were,  the  more  they  were  subjected  to  the  at- 
tacks and  peltings  of  the  mob.  Upon  this  I  bowed  my  head 
three  times,  with  my  hands  to  my  turban,  and  made  a  speech 
in  Arabic-Greek,  which  gave  great  satisfaction  and  occa- 
sioned a  shower  of  old  shoes,  hats,  and  so  forth,  that  was 
exceedingly  refreshing  to  us  all. 

Thou  wilt  not  as  yet  expect  that  I  should  give  thee  an 
account  of  the  laws  and  politics  of  this  country.  I  will  re- 
serve them  for  some  future  letter,  when  I  shall  be  more  ex- 
perienced hi  their  complicated  and  seemingly  contradictory 
nature. 

This  empire  is  governed  by  a  grand  and  most  puissant 
bashaw,  whom  they  dignify  with  the  title  of  president.  He 
is  chosen  by  persons  who  are  chosen  by  an  assembly  elected 
by  the  people — hence  the  mob  is  called  the  sovereign  people, 
and  the  country  free;  the  body  politic  doubtless  resembling 
a  vessel,  which  is  best  governed  by  its  tail.  The  present 
bashaw  is  a  very  plain  old  gentleman — something,  they  say, 
of  a  humorist,  as  he  amuses  himself  with  impaling  butter- 
flies and  pickling  tadpoles;  he  is  rather  declining  in  popular- 
ity, having  given  great  offense  by  wearing  red  breeches  and 
tying  his  horse  to  a  post.  The  people  of  the  United  States 
have  assured  me  that  they  themselves  are  the  most  enlight° 
ened  nation  under  the  sun ;  but  thou  knowest  that  the  barba- 
rians of  the  desert,  who  assemble  at  the  summer  solstice  to 
shoot  their  arrows  at  that  glorious  luminary,  in  order  to  ex- 
tinguish his  burning  rays,  make  precisely  the  same  boast — 
which  of  them  have  the  superior  claim  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
decide. 

I  have  observed,  with  some  degree  of  surprise,  that  the 
men  of  this  country  do  not  seem  in  haste  to  accommodate 
themselves  even  with  the  single  wife  which  alone  the  laws 


43  U/orKs  of  U/a&l?ir)$top 

jsermit  them  to  marry;  this  backwardness  is  probably  owing 
to  the  misfortune  of  their  absolutely  having  no  female  mutes 
among  them.  Thou  knowest  how  invaluable  are  these  silent 
companions — what  a  price  is  given  for  them  in  the  east,  and 
what  entertaining  wives  they  make.  What  delightful  enter- 
tainment arises  from  beholding  the  silent  eloquence  of  their 
signs  and  gestures;  but  a  wife  possessed  both  of  a  tongue 
and  a  soul — monstrous!  monstrous!  Is  it  astonishing  that 
these  unhappy  infidels  should  shrink  from  a  union  with  a 
woman  so  preposterously  endowed? 

Thou  hast  doubtless  read  in  the  works  of  Abul  Faraj,  the 
Arabian  historian,  the  tradition  which  mentions  that  the 
muses  were  once  upon  the  point  of  falling  together  by 
the  ears  about  the  admission  of  a  tenth  among  their  num- 
ber, until  she  assured  them  by  signs  that  she  was  dumb; 
whereupon  they  received  her  with  great  rejoicing.  I  should, 
perhaps,  inform  thee  that  there  are  but  nine  Christian  muses, 
who  were  formerly  pagans,  but  have  since  been  converted, 
and  that  in  this  country  we  never  hear  of  a  tenth,  unless 
some  crazy  poet  wishes  to  pay  a  hyperbolical  compliment  to 
his  mistress;  on  which  occasion  it  goes  hard  but  she  figures 
as  a  tenth  muse,  or  fourth  grace,  even  though  she  should  be 
more  illiterate  than  a  Hottentot,  and  more  ungraceful  than  a 
dancing-bear!  Since  my  arrival  hi  this  country  I  have  met 
with  not  less  than  a  hundred  of  these  supernumerary  muses 
and  graces — and  may  Allah  preserve  me  from  ever  meeting 
with  any  more ! 

When  I  have  studied  this  people  more  profoundly,  I  will 
write  thee  again ;  in  the  meantime,  watch  over  my  house- 
hold, and  do  not  beat  my  beloved  wives  unless  you  catch 
them  with  their  noses  out  at  the  window.  Though  far  dis- 
tant and  a  slave,  let  me  live  in  thy  heart  as  thou  livest  in 
mine.  Think  not,  oh  friend  of  my  soul,  that  the  splendors 
of  this  luxurious  capital,  its  gorgeous  palaces,  its  stupendous 
mosques,  and  the  beautiful  females  who  run  wild  in  herds 
about  its  streets,  can  obliterate  thee  from  my  remembrance. 
Thy  name  shall  still  be  mentioned  in  the  five-and-twenty 


Salma^updi  43 

prayers  which  I  offer  up  daily ;  and  may  our  great  prophet, 
after  bestowing  on  thee  all  the  blessings  of  this  lif e,  at  length, 
in  good  old  age,  lead  thee  gently  by  the  hand  to  enjoy  the 
dignity  of  bashaw  of  three  tails  in  the  blissful  bowers  of  Eden. 

MUSTAPHA. 


FASHIONS 
BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

THE  FOLLOWING  ARTICLE  IS  FURNISHED  ME  BY  A  YOUNG 
LADY  OF  UNQUESTIONABLE  TASTE,  AND  WHO  IS  THE 
ORACLE  OF  FASHION  AND  FRIPPERY.  BEING  DEEPLY 
INITIATED  INTO  ALL  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  THE  TOILET, 
SHE  HAS  PROMISED  ME  FROM  TIME  TO  TIME  A  SIMILAR 

DETAIL 

MRS.  TOOLE  has  for  some  time  reigned  unrivaled  in  the 
fashionable  world,  and  had  the  supreme  direction  of  caps, 
bonnets,  feathers,  flowers,  and  tinsel.  She  has  dressed  and 
undressed  our  ladies  just  as  she  pleased;  now  loading  them 
with  velvet  and  wadding,  now  turning  them  adrift  upon 
the  world  to  run  shivering  through  the  streets  with  scarce- 
ly a  covering  to  their — backs;  and  now  obliging  them  to 
drag  a  long  train  at  their  heels,  like  the  tail  of  a  paper  kite. 
Her  despotic  sway,  however,  threatens  to  be  limited.  A 
dangerous  rival  has  sprung  up  in  the  person  of  Madame 
Bouchard,  an  intrepid  little  woman,  fresh  from  the  head- 
quarters of  fashion  and  folly,  and  who  has  burst,  like  a  sec- 
ond Bonaparte,  upon  the  fashionable  world. — Mrs.  Toole, 
notwithstanding,  seems  determined  to  dispute  her  ground 
bravely  for  the  honor  of  old  England.  The  ladies  have  be- 
gun to  arrange  themselves  under  the  banner  of  one  or  other 
of  these  heroines  of  the  needle,  and  everything  portends  open 
war.  Madame  Bouchard  marches  gallantly  to  the  field,  flour- 
ishing a  flaming  red  robe  for  a  standard,  "flouting  the  skies"; 
and  Mrs.  Toole,  no  ways  dismayed,  sallies  out  under  cover 


44  U/orXs  of  .U/asl?ii?$toi)  Iruii)<} 

of  a  forest  of  artificial  flowers,  like  Malcolm's  host.  Both 
parties  possess  great  merit,  and  both  deserve  the  victory. 
Mrs.  Toole  charges  the  highest — but  Madame  Bouchard 
makes  the  lowest  courtesy.  Madame  Bouchard  is  a  little 
short  lady — nor  is  there  any  hope  of  her  growing  larger ;  but 
then  she  is  perfectly  genteel,  and  so  is  Mrs.  Toole.  Mrs. 
Toole  lives  hi  Broadway,  and  Madame  Bouchard  in  Court- 
landt  Street;  but  Madame  atones  for  the  inferiority  of  her 
stand  by  making  two  courtesies  to  Mrs.  Toole's  one,  and 
talking  French  like  an  angel.  Mrs.  Toole  is  the  best  looking 
— but  Madame  Bouchard  wears  a  most  bewitching  little 
scrubby  wig.  Mrs.  Toole  is  the  tallest — but  Madame  Bou- 
chard has  the  longest  nose.  Mrs.  Toole  is  fond  of  roast-beef 
-—but  Madame  is  loyal  in  her  adherence  to  onions;  in  short, 
so  equally  are  the  merits  of  the  two  ladies  balanced  that  there 
is  no  judging  which  will  "kick  the  beam."  It,  however, 
seems  to  be  the  prevailing  opinion  that  Madame  Bouchard 
will  carry  the  day,  because  she  wears  a  wig,  has  a  long  nose, 
talks  French,  loves  onions,  and  does  not  charge  above  ten 
times  as  much  for  a  thing  as  it  is  worth. 


UNDER    THE    DIRECTION    OF    THESE     HIGH    PRIESTESSES    OF 
THE   BEAU-MONDE,    THE   FOLLOWING  IS  THE   FASH- 
IONABLE  MORNING   DRESS    FOR   WALKING 

IF  the  weather  be  very  cold,  a  thin  muslin  gown  or  frock 
is  most  advisable ;  because  it  agrees  with  the  season,  being 
perfectly  cool.  The  neck,  arms  and  particularly  the  elbows 
bare,  in  order  that  they  may  be  agreeably  painted  and  mot- 
tled by  Mr.  John  Frost,  nose-painter-general,  of  the  color  of 
Castile  soap.  Shoes  of  kid,  the  thinnest  that  can  possibly  be 
procured — as  they  tend  to  promote  colds,  and  make  a  lady 
look  interesting — (i.e.,  grizzly).  Picnic  silk  stockings,  with 
lace  clocks,  flesh-colored  are  most  fashionable,  as  they  have 
the  appearance  of  bare  legs— nudity  being  all  the  rage.  The 


43 

stockings  carelessly  bespattered  with  mud,  to  agree  with  the 
gown,  which  should  be  bordered  about  three  inches  deep  with 
the  most  fashionable  colored  mud  that  can  be  found:  the 
ladies  permitted  to  hold  up  their  trains,  after  they  have  swept 
two  or  three  streets,  in  order  to  show — the  clocks  of  their 
stockings.  The  shawl,  scarlet,  crimson,  flame,  orange,  sal- 
mon, or  any  other  combustible  or  brimstone  color,  thrown 
over  one  shoulder;  like  an  Indian  blanket,  with  one  end 
dragging  on  the  ground. 

N.B. — If  the  ladies  have  not  a  red  shawl  at  hand,  a  red 
petticoat  turned  topsy-turvy,  over  the  shoulders,  would  do 
just  as  well.  This  is  called  being  dressed  a  la  drabble. 

"When  the  ladies  do  not  go  abroad  of  a  morning,  the  usual 
chimney-corner  dress  is  a  dotted,  spotted,  striped,  or  cross- 
barred  gown — a  yellowish,  whitish,  smokish,  dirty-colored 
shawl,  and  the  hair  curiously  ornamented  with  little  bits  of 
newspapers,  or  pieces  of  a  letter  from  a  dear  friend.  This 
is  called  the  "Cinderella  dress." 

The  recipe  for  a  full  dress  is  as  follows :  take  of  spider- 
net,  crape,  satin,  gimp,  catgut,  gauze,  whalebone,  lace,  bob- 
bin, ribbons,  and  artificial  flowers,  as  much  as  will  rig  out 
the  congregation  of  a  village  church ;  to  these,  add  as  many 
spangles,  beads  and  gewgaws  as  would  be  sufficient  to  turn 
the  heads  of  all  the  fashionable  fair  ones  of  Nootka  Sound. 
Let  Mrs.  Toole  or  Madame  Bouchard  patch  all  these  articles 
together,  one  upon  another,  dash  them  plentifully  over  with 
stars,  bugles  and  tinsel,  and  they  will  altogether  form  a 
dress  which,  hung  upon  a  lady's  back,  cannot  fail  of  supply- 
ing the  place  of  beauty,  youth,  and  grace,  and  of  reminding 
the  spectator  of  that  celebrated  region  of  finery  called  Sag 
Fair. 


ONE  of  the  greatest  sources  of  amusement  incident  to  our 
humorous  knight-errantry  is  to  ramble  about  and  hear  the 
various  conjectures  of  the  town  respecting  our  worships, 
whom  everybody  pretends  to  know  as  well  as  Falstaff  did 


of 

Prince  Hal  at  Gads  Hill.  We  have  sometimes  seen  a  sapi- 
ent, sleepy  fellow,  on  being  tickled  with  a  straw,  make  a 
furious  effort  and  fancy  he  had  fairly  caught  a  gnat  in  his 
grasp;  so  that  many-headed  monster  the  public,  who,  with 
all  its  heads,  is,  we  fear,  sadly  off  for  brains,  has,  after  long 
hovering,  come  souse  down  like  a  kingfisher  on  the  authors 
of  Salmagundi,  and  caught  them  as  certainly  as  the  afore- 
said honest  fellow  caught  the  gnat. 

Would  that  we  were  rich  enough  to  give  every  one  of  our 
numerous  readers  a  cent  as  a  reward  for  their  ingenuity !  not 
that  they  have  really  conjectured  within  a  thousand  leagues 
of  the  truth,  but  that  we  consider  it  a  great  stretch  of  ingenu- 
ity even  to  have  guessed  wrong;  and  that  we  hold  ourselves 
much  obliged  to  them  for  having  taken  the  trouble  to  guess 
at  all. 

One  of  the  most  tickling,  dear,  mischievous  pleasures  of 
this  life  is  to  laugh  in  one's  sleeve — to  sit  snug  in  the  corner, 
unnoticed  and  unknown,  and  hear  the  wise  men  of  Gotham, 
who  are  profound  judges  of  horse-flesh,  pronounce,  from  the 
style  of  our  work,  who  are  the  authors.  This  listening  in- 
cog., and  receiving  a  hearty  praising  over  another  man's 
back,  is  a  situation  so  celestially  whimsical  that  we  have 
done  little  else  than  laugh  in  our  sleeve  ever  since  our  first 
number  was  published. 

The  town  has  at  length  allayed  the  titillations  of  curiosity 
by  fixing  on  two  young  gentlemen  of  literary  talents — that 
ie  to  say,  they  are  equal  to  the  composition  of  a  newspaper 
squib,  a  hodge-podge  criticism,  or  some  such  trifle,  and  may 
occasionally  raise  a  smile  by  their  effusions;  but  pardon  us, 
sweet  sirs,  if  we- modestly  doubt  your  capability  of  support- 
ing the  burden  of  Salmagundi,  or  of  keeping  up  a.  laugh 
for  a  whole  fortnight,  as  we  have  done,  and  intend  to  do, 
until  the  whole  town  becomes  a  community  of  laugliing  phi- 
losophers like  ourselves.  We  have  no  intention,  however,  of 
undervaluing  the  abilities  of  these  two  young  men,  whom  we 
verily  believe,  according  to  common  acceptation,  young  men 
of  promise. 


Salma$updf  47 

Were  we  ill-natured,  we  might  publish  something  that 
would  get  our  representatives  into  difficulties;  but  far  be  it 
from  us  to  do  anything  to  the  injury  of  persons  to  whom  we 
are  under  such  obligations. 

While  they  stand  before  us,  we,  like  little  Teucer  behind 
the  sevenfold  shield  of  Ajax,  can  lanch  unseen  our  sportive 
arrows,  which  we  trust  will  never  inflict  a  wound,  unless  like 
his  they  fly  "heaven  directed,"  to  some  conscious-struck 
bosom. 

Another  marvelous  great  source  of  pleasure  to  us  is  the 
abuse  our  work  has  received  from  several  wooden  gentlemen, 
whose  censures  we  covet  more  than  ever  we  did  anything  in 
our  lives.  The  moment  we  declared  open  war  against  folly 
and  stupidity  we  expected  to  receive  no  quarter ;  and  to  pro- 
voke a  confederacy  of  all  the  blockheads  in  town.  For  it  is 
one  of  our  indisputable  facts  that  so  sure  as  you  catch  a  ganr 
der  by  the  tail,  the  whole  flock,  geese,  goslings,  one  and  all, 
have  a  fellow-feeling  on  the  occasion,  and  begin  to  cackle 
and  hiss  like  so  many  devils  bewitched.  As  we  have  a  pro- 
found respect  for  these  ancient  and  respectable  birds,  on  the 
score  of  their  once  saving  the  capital,  we  hereby  declare  that 
we  mean  no  offense  whatever  by  comparing  them  to  the 
aforesaid  confederacy.  We  have  heard  in  our  walks  such 
criticisms  on  Salmagundi  as  almost  induced  a  belief  that 
folly  had  here,  as  in  the  east,  her  moments  of  inspired  idiot- 
ism.  Every  silly  roisterer  has,  as  if  by  an  instinctive  sense 
of  anticipated  danger,  joined  in  the  cry,  and  condemned  us 
without  mercy.  All  is  thus  as  it  should  be.  It  would  have 
mortified  us  very  sensibly  had  we  been  disappointed  in  this 
particular,  as  we  should  then  have  been  apprehensive  that 
our  shafts  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  innocent  of  the  "blood 
or  brains"  of  a  single  numskull.  Our  efforts  have  been 
crowned  with  wonderful  success.  All  the  queer  fish,  the 
grubs,  the  flats,  the  noddies,  and  the  live  oak  and  timber 
gentlemen,  are  pointing  their  empty  guns  at  us ;  and  we  are 
threatened  with  a  most  puissant  confederacy  of  the  "pigmies 
and  cranes,"  and  other  "light  militia,"  backed  by  the  heavy 


48  U/or^s  of  UVaslpfr^toi)  Irufi}<$ 

armed  artillery  of  dullness  and  stupidity.  The  veriest  dreams 
of  our  most  sanguine  moments  are  thus  realized.  "We  have 
no  fear  of  the  censures  of  the  wise,  the  good,  or  the  fair;  for 
they  will  ever  be  sacred  from  our  attacks.  We  reverence 
the  wise,  love  the  good,  and  adore  the  fair;  we  declare  our- 
selves champions  in  their  cause — in  the  cause  of  morality — 
and  we  throw  our  gauntlet  to  all  the  world  besides. 

While  we  profess  and  feel  the  same  indifference  to  public 
applause  as  at  first,  we  most  earnestly  invite  the  attacks  and 
censures  of  all  the  wooden  warriors  of  this  sensible  city ;  and 
especially  of  that  distinguished  and  learned  body  heretofore 
celebrated  under  the  appellation  of  "The  North  River  So- 
ciety." The  thrice  valiant  and  renowned  Don  Quixote  never 
made  such  work  among  the  wool-clad  warriors  of  Trapoban, 
or  the  puppets  of  the  itinerant  showman,  as  we  promise  to 
make  among  these  fine  fellows;  and  we  pledge  ourselves  to 
the  public  in  general,  and  the  Albany  skippers  in  particular, 
that  the  North  River  shall  not  be  set  on  fire  this  winter  at 
least,  for  we  shall  give  the  authors  of  that  nefarious  scheme 
ample  employment  for  some  tune  to  come. 


PROCLAMATION 

PROM  THE   MILL  OF   PINDAR   COCKLOFT,    ESQ. 

To  all  the  young  belles  who  enliven  our  scene, 
From  ripe  five-and-forty  to  blooming  fifteen; 
Who  racket  at  routs,  and  who  rattle  at  plays, 
Who  visit,  and  fidget,  and  dance  out  their  days : 
Who  conquer  all  hearts  with  a  shot  from  the  eye, 
Who  freeze  with  a  frown,  and  who  thaw  with  a  sigh. 
To  all  those  bright  youths  who  embellish  the  age, 
Whether  young  boys,  or  old  boys,  or  numskull  or  sage : 
Whether  DULL  DOGS,  who  cringe  at  their  mistress'  feet, 
Who  sigh  and  who  whine,  and  who  try  to  look  sweet ; 


49 

Whether  TOUGH  DOGS,  who  squat  down  stockstfll  in  a 

row 

And  play  wooden  gentlemen  stuck  up  for  a  show; 
Or  SAD  DOGS,  who  glory  in  running  their  rigs, 
Now  dash  in  their  sleighs,  and  now  whirl  in  their  gigs; 
"Who  riot  at  Dyde's  on  imperial  champagne, 
And  then  scour  our  city — the  peace  to  maintain: 

To  whoe'er  it  concerns  or  may  happen  to  meet, 
By  these  presents  their  worships  I  lovingly  greet. 
Now  KNOW  YE,  that  I,  PINDAR  COCKLOFT,  esquire, 
Am  laureate,  appointed  at  special  desire. 
A  censor,  self-dubb'd,  to  admonish  the  fair, 
And  tenderly  take  the  town  under  my  care. 

I'm  a  ci-devant  beau,  cousin  Launcelot  has  said — 
A  remnant  of  habits  long  vanished  and  dead; 
But  still,  though  my  heart  dwells  with  rapture  sublime 
On  the  fashions  and  customs  which  reign'd  in  my  prime, 
I  yet  can  perceive — and  still  candidly  praise, 
Some  maxims  and  manners  of  these  "latter  days"; 
Still  own  that  some  wisdom  and  beauty  appears, 
Though  almost  entomb'd  in  the  rubbish  of  years. 

No  fierce  nor  tyrannical  cynic  am  I, 
Who  frown  on  each  foible  I  chance  to  espy; 
Who  pounce  on  a  novelty,  just  like  a  kite, 
And  tear  up  a  victim  through  malice  or  spite-. 
Who  expose  to  the  scoffs  of  an  ill-natured  crew 
A  trembler  for  starting  a  whim  that  is  new. 
No,  no — I  shall  cautiously  hold  up  my  glass 
To  the  sweet  little  blossoms  who  heedlessly  pass; 
My  remarks  not  too  pointed  to  wound  or  offend, 
Nor  so  vague  as  to  miss  their  benevolent  end : 
Each  innocent  fashion  shall  have  its  full  sway; 
New  modes  shall  arise  to  astonish  Broadway : 
Red  hats  and  red  shawls  still  illumine  the  town, 
And  each  belle,  like  a  bonfire,  blaze  up  and  down. 

Fair  spirits,  who  brighten  the  gloom  of  our  days, 
Who  cheer  this  dull  scene  with  your  heavenly  rays, 

*  *  *  C  VOL.  V.     , 


50  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ip$toi)  frvti>$ 

No  mortal  can  love  you  more  firmly  and  true, 
From  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  sole  of  your  shoe. 
I'm  old-fashion*d,  'tis  true — but  still  runs  in  my  heart 
That  affectionate  stream  to  which  youth  gave  the  start, 
More  calm  hi  its  current — yet  potent  in  force ; 
Less  ruffled  by  gales— but  still  steadfast  in  course. 
Though  the  lover,  enraptur'd,  no  longer  appears — 
'Tis  the  guide  and  the  guardian  enlighten'd  by  years. 
All  ripen'd  and  mellow'd,  and  soften'd  by  time, 
The  asperities  polish'd  which  chafed  in  my  prime; 
I  am  fully  prepared  for  that  delicate  end, 
The  fair  one's  instructor,  companion  and  friend. 
— And  should  I  perceive  you  in  fashion's  gay  dance^ 
Allured  by  the  frippery  mongers  of  France, 
Expose  your  weak  frames  to  a  chill  wintry  sky, 
To  be  nipp'd  by  its  frosts,  to  be  torn  from  the  eye ; 
My  soft  admonitions  shall  fall  on  your  ear — 
Shall  whisper  those  parents  to  whom  you  are  dear- 
Shall  warn  you  of  hazards  you  heedlessly  run, 
And  sing  of  those  fair  ones  whom  frost  has  undone; 
Bright  suns  that  would  scarce  on  our  horizon  dawn 
Ere  shrouded  from  sight,  they  were  early  withdrawn; 
Gay  sylphs,  who  have  floated  in  circles  below, 
As  pure  hi  their  souls,  and  as  transient  as  snow ; 
Sweet  roses,  that  bloom'd  and  decay'd  to  my  eye, 
And  of  forms  that  have  flitted  and  pass'd  to  the  sky. 
But  as  to  those  brainless  pert  bloods  of  our  town, 
Those  sprigs  of  the  ton  who  run  decency  down; 
Who  lounge  and  who  lout,  and  who  booby  about, 
No  knowledge  within,  and  no  manners  without; 
Who  stare  at  each  beauty  with  insolent  eyes; 
Who  rail  at  those  morals  their  fathers  would  prize ; 
Who  are  loud  at  the  play — and  who  impiously  dare 
To  come  in  their  cups  to  the  routs  of  the  fair; 
I  shall  hold  up  my  mirror,  to  let  them  survey 
Tho  figures  they  cut  as  they  dash  it  away : 
Should  my  good-humored  verse  no  amendment  produce, 


$1 


Like  scarecrows,  at  least,  they  shall  still  be  of  use; 
I  shall  stitch  them,  in  effigy,  up  in  my  rhyme, 
And  hold  them  aloft  through  the  progress  of  time, 
As  figures  of  fun  to  make  the  folks  laugh, 
Like  that  b  --  h  of  an  angel  erected  by  Paff, 
"What  shtops,"  as  he  says,  "all  de  people  what  come 
What  smiles  on  dem  all,  and  what  peats  on  de  trum." 


No.  IV.— TUESDAY,    FEBRUARY   24,   1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

PERHAPS  there  is  no  class  of  men  to  which  the  curious 
and  literary  are  more  indebted  than  travelers — I  mean  travel- 
mongers,  who  write  whole  volumes  about  themselves,  their 
horses  and  their  servants,  interspersed  with  anecdotes  of  inn- 
keepers— droll  sayings  of  stage-drivers,  and  interesting  me- 
moirs of — the  Lord  knows  who.  They  will  give  you  a  full 
account  of  a  city,  its  manners,  customs,  and  manufactures; 
though,  perhaps,  all  their  knowledge  of  it  was  obtained  by 
a  peep  from  their  inn-windows  and  an  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  the  landlord  or  the  waiter.  America  has  had  its 
share  of  these  buzzards;  and  in  the  name  of  my  countrymen 
I  return  them  profound  thanks  for  the  compliments  they 
have  lavished  upon  us,  and  the  variety  of  particulars  con* 
corning  our  own  country  which  we  should  never  have  dis- 
covered without  their  assistance. 

Influenced  by  such  sentiments,  I  am  delighted  to  find 
that  the  Cockloft  family,  among  its  other  whimsical  and 
monstrous  productions,  is  about  to  be  enriched  with  a  genu- 
ine travel-writer.  This  is  no  less  a  personage  than  Mr. 
Jeremy  Cockloft,  the  only  son  and  darling  pride  of  my 
cousin,  Mr.  Christopher  Cockloft.  I  should  have  said 
Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger,  as  he  so  styles  himself,  by 


52  U/orKs  of  UYasl?io$Cor) 

way  of  distinguishing  him  from  II  Signore  Jeremy  Cock- 
loftico,  a  gouty  old  gentleman,  who  flouished  about  the  time 
that  Pliny  the  elder  was  smoked  to  death  with  the  fire  and 
brimstone  of  Vesuvius ;  and  whose  travels,  if  he  ever  wrote 
any,  are  now  lost  forever  to  the  world.  Jeremy  is  at  pres- 
ent in  his  one-and-twentieth  year,  and  a  young  fellow  of 
wonderful  quick  parts,  if  you  will  trust  to  the  word  of  his 
father,  who,  having  begotten  him,  should  be  the  best  judge 
of  the  matter.  He  is  the  oracle  of  the  family,  dictates  to  his 
sisters  on  every  occasion,  though  they  are  some  dozen  or 
more  years  older  than  himself;  and  never  did  son  give 
mother  better  advice  than  Jeremy. 

As  old  Cockloft  was  determined  his  son  should  be  both  a 
scholar  and  a  gentleman,  he  took  great  pains  with  his  educa- 
tion, which  was  completed  at  our  university,  where  he  be- 
came exceedingly  expert  in  quizzing  his  teachers  and  playing 
billiards.  No  student  made  better  squibs  and  crackers  to 
blow  up  the  chemical  professor;  no  one  chalked  more  ludi- 
crous caricatures  on  the  walls  of  the  college;  and  none  were 
more  adroit  in  shaving  pigs  and  climbing  lightning-rods. 
He  moreover  learned  all  the  letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet; 
could  demonstrate  that  water  never  "of  its  own  accord"  rose 
above  the  level  of  its  source,  and  that  air  was  certainly  the 
principle  of  life;  for  he  had  been  entertained  with  the  hu- 
mane experiment  of  a  cat  worried  to  death  in  an  air-pump. 
He  once  shook  down  the  ash-house  by  an  artificial  earth- 
quake; and  nearly  blew  his  sister  Barbara  and  her  cat  out 
of  the  window  with  thundering  powder.  He  likewise  boasts 
exceedingly  of  being  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  com- 
position of  Lacedemonian  black  broth ;  and  once  made  a  pot 
of  it,  which  had  wellnigh  poisoned  the  whole  family,  and 
actually  threw  the  cook-maid  into  convulsions.  But  above 
all,  he  values  himself  upon  his  logic,  has  the  old  college  co- 
nundrum of  the  cat  with  three  tails  at  his  fingers'  ends,  and 
often  hampers  his  father  with  his  syllogisms,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  old  gentleman;  who  considers  the  major, 
minor,  and  conclusions,  as  almost  equal  in  argument  to  the 


53 

pulley,  the  wedge,  and  the  lever,  in  mechanics.  In  fact,  my 
cousin  Cockloft  was  once  nearly  annihilated  with  astonish- 
ment, on  hearing  Jeremy  trace  the  derivation  of  Mango  from 
Jeremiah  King — as  Jeremiah  King,  Jerry  King!  Jerking 
Girkin!  cucumber,  Mango!  In  short,  had  Jeremy  been  a 
student  at  Oxford  or  Cambridge  he  would,  in  all  probabil- 
ity, have  been  promoted  to  the  dignity  of  a  senior  wrangler. 
By  this  sketch,  I  mean  no  disparagement  to  the  abilities  of 
other  students  of  our  college,  for  I  have  no  doubt  that  every 
commencement  ushers  into  society  luminaries  full  as  brilliant 
as  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger. 

Having  made  a  very  pretty  speech  on  graduating  to  a 
numerous  assemblage  of  old  folks  and  young  ladies,  who  all 
declared  that  he  was  a  very  fine  young  man  and  made  very 
handsome  gestures,  Jeremy  was  seized  with  a  great  desire  to 
see  or  rather  to  be  seen  by  the  world ;  and  as  his  father  was 
anxious  to  give  him  every  possible  advantage,  it  was  deter- 
mined Jeremy  should  visit  foreign  parts.  In  consequence  of 
this  resolution,  he  has  spent  a  matter  of  three  or  four  months 
in  visiting  strange  places;  and  in  the  course  of  his  travels 
has  tarried  some  few  days  at  the  splendid  metropolises  of 
Albany  and  Philadelphia. 

Jeremy  has  traveled  as  every  modern  man  of  sense  should 
do;  that  is,  he  judges  of  things  by  the  sample  next  at  hand; 
if  he  has  ever  any  doubt  on  a  subject,  always  decides  against 
the  city  where  he  happens  to  sojourn ;  and  invariably  takes 
home  as  the  standard  by  which  to  direct  his  judgment. 

Going  into  his  room  the  other  day,  when  he  happened  to 
be  absent,  I  found  a  manuscript  volume  lying  on  his  table; 
and  was  overjoyed  to  find  it  contained  notes  and  hints  for  a 
book  of  travels  which  he  intends  publishing.  He  seems  to 
have  taken  a  late  fashionable  travel-monger  for  his  model, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  his  work  will  be  equally  instructive  and 
amusing  with  that  of  his  prototype.  The  following  are  some 
extracts,  which  may  not  prove  uninteresting  to  my  readers. 


Si  U/orKs  of  U/ael?ii)$toi} 


MEMORANDUMS  FOR  A  TOUR,  TO  BE  ENTITLED 

"THE  STRANGER  IN  NEW  JERSEY;  OR, 

COCKNEY  TRAVELING" 

BY  JEREMY  COCKLOFT    THE  YOUNGER 


CHAPTER   ONE 

THB  man  in  the  moon* — preparations  for  departure- 
hints  to  travelers  about  packing  their  trunks  f —  straps, 
buckles,  and  bed-cords — case  of  pistols,  a  la  cockney — five 
trunks — three  bandboxes — a  cocked  hat — and  a  medicine 
chest,  a  la  Francaise — parting  advice  of  my  two  sisters 
— query,  why  old  maids  are  so  particular  in  their  cautions 
against  naughty  women ; — description  of  Powles-Hook  ferry- 
boats— might  be  converted  into  gunboats,  and  defend  our 
port  equally  well  with  Albany  sloops — Brom,  the  black  ferry- 
man—  Charon  —  river  Styx  —  ghosts; — Major  Hunt  —  good 
story — ferriage  ninepence; — city  of  Harsimus — built  on  the 
spot  where  the  folk  once  danced  on  their  stumps,  while  the 
devil  fiddled; — query,  why  do  the  Harsimites  talk  Dutch? — 
story  of  the  tower  of  Babel,  and  confusion  of  tongues — get 
into  the  stage — driver  a  wag — famous  fellow  for  running 
stage  races — killed  three  passengers  and  crippled  nine  in  the 
course  of  his  practice — philosophical  reasons  why  stage  drivers 
love  grog — causeway — ditch  on  each  side  for  folk  to  tumble 
into — famous  place  for  skilly-pots;  Philadelphians  call  'em 
tamping — roast  them  under  the  ashes  as  we  do  potatoes — 
query,  may  not  this  be  the  reason  that  the  Philadelphians 
are  all  turtle-heads? — Hackensack  bridge — good  painting  of 
a  blue  horse  jumping  over  a  mountain — wonder  who  it  was 
painted  by? — mem.  to  ask  the  Baron  de  Gusto  about  it  on 

*  Vide  Carr's  Stranger  in  Ireland.  f  Vide  Weld. 


55 

my  return; — Rattlesnake  Hill,  so  called  from  abounding  with 
butterflies; — salt  marsh,  surmounted  here  and  there  by  a 
solitary  haystack; — more  tarapins — wonder  why  the  Phila- 
delphians  don't  establish  a  fishery  here,  and  get  a  patent  for 
it; — bridge  over  the  Passaic — rate  of  toll — description  of  toll- 
boards — toll  man  had  but  one  eye — story  how  it  is  possible 
he  may  have  lost  the  other — pence-table,  etc.* 


CHAPTER   TWO 

NEWARK — noted  for  its  fine  breed  of  fat  mosquitoes — 
sting  through  the  thickest  bootf — story  about  Oallynippers 
— Archer  Gifford  and  his  man  Caliban — jolly  fat  fellows; — a 
knowing  traveler  always  judges  of  everything  by  the  inn- 
keepers and  waiters  ;J  set  down  Newark  people  all  fat  as 
butter — learned  dissertation  on  Archer  Gifford's  green  coat, 
with  philosophical  reasons  why  the  Newarkites  wear  red 
worsted  nightcaps,  and  turn  their  noses  to  the  south  when 
the  wind  blows — Newark  Academy  full  of  windows — sun- 
shine excellent  to  make  little  boys  grow — Elizabethtown — 
fine  girls — vile  mosquitoes — plenty  of  oysters — query,  have 
oysters  any  feeling? — good  story  about  the  fox  catching 
them  by  his  tail — ergo,  foxes  might  be  of  great  use  in 
the  pearl-fishery;  —  landlord  member  of  the  legislature  — 
treats  everybody  who  has  a  vote — mem.,  all  the  innkeepers 
members  of  legislature  in  New  Jersey;  Bridgetown,  vul- 
garly called  Spanktown,  from  a  story  of  a  quondam  parson 
and  his  wife — real  name,  according  to  Liiikum  Fidelius, 
Bridgetown,  from  bridge,  a  contrivance  to  get  dryshod  over 
a  river  or  brook ;  and  town,  an  appellation  given  in  America 
to  the  accidental  assemblage  of  a  church,  a  tavern,  and  a 
blacksmith's  shop — Linkum  as  right  as  my  left  leg; — Rah  way 
River — good  place  for  gunboats — wonder  why  Mr.  Jefferson 

*  Vide  Carr.  f  Vide  Weld. 

J  Vide  Carr,  vide  Moore,  vide  Weld,  vide  Parkinson,  vide  Priest, 
vide  Linkum  Fidelius,  and  vide  Messrs.  Tag,  Bag,  and  Bobtail. 


36  (I/or^s  of 

don't  send  a  river  fleet  there  to  protect  the  hay-vessels? — 
Woodbridge — landlady  mending  her  husband's  breeches — 
sublime  apostrophe  to  conjugal  affection  and  the  fair  sex;* 
— Woodbridge  famous  for  its  crab-fishery — sentimental  cor- 
respondence between  a  crab  and  a  lobster — digression  to  Abe- 
lard  and  Eloisa;  mem.,  when  the  moon  is  in  Pisces  she  plays 
the  devil  with  the  crabc. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

BRUNSWICK — oldest  town  in  the  State— division-line  be- 
tween two  counties[in  the  middle  of  the  street ; — posed  a  lawyer 
with  the  case  of  a  man  standing  with  one  foot  in  each  county 
— wanted  to  know  in  which  he  was  domicil — lawyer  couldn't 
tell  for  the  soul  of  him — mem.,  all  the  New  Jersey  lawyers 
nums.; — Miss  Hay's  boarding-school — young  ladies  not  al- 
lowed to  eat  mustard — and  why? — fat  story  of  a  mustard- 
pot,  with  a  good  saying  of  Ding-Dong's; — Vernon's  tavern 
— fine  place  to  sleep,  if  the  noise  would  let  you — another 
Caliban ! — Vernon  slew-eyed — people  of  Brunswick,  of  course, 
all  squint; — Drake's  tavern — fine  old  blade — wears  square 
buckles  in  his  shoes— tells  bloody  long  stories  about  last  war 
— people,  of  course,  all  do  the  same;  Hook'em  Snivy,  the 
famous  fortune-teller,  born  here — contemporary  with  mother 
Shoulders — particulars  of  his  history — died  one  day — lines  to 
his  memory,  which  found  their  way  into  my  pocket-book;^ 
— melancholy  reflections  on  the  death  of  great  men — beau- 
tiful epitaph  on  myself. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

PRINCETON — college — professors    wear    boots! — students 
famous  for  their  love  of  a  jest — set  the  college  on  fire,  and 

*  Vide  The  Sentimental  Kotzebue.      f  Vide  Carr  and  Blind  Bet. 


5? 

burned  out  the  professors;  an  excellent  joke,  but  not  worth 
repeating — mem.,  American  students  very  much  addicted  to 
burning  down  colleges — reminds  me  of  a  good  story,  nothing 
at  all  to  the  purpose— two  societies  in  the  college — good  no- 
tion— encourages  emulation,  and  makes  little  boys  fight; — 
students  famous  for  their  eating  and  erudition — saw  two  at 
the  tavern,  who  had  just  got  their  allowance  of  spending- 

money — laid  it  all  out  in  a  supper — got  fuddled,  and  d d 

the  professors  for  nincoms.  N.B. — Southern  gentlemen. — 
Churchyard — apostrophe  to  grim  death — saw  a  cow  feeding 
on  a  grave — metempsychosis — who  knows  but  the  cow  may 
have  been  eating  up  the  soul  of  one  of  my  ancestors — made 
ms  melancholy  and  pensive  for  fifteen  minutes; — man  plant- 
ing cabbages*— wondered  how  he  could  plant  them  so  straight 
— method  of  mole-catching — and  all  that — query,  whether  it 
would  not  be  a  good  notion  to  ring  their  noses  as  we  do  pigs 
— mem. ,  to  propose  it  to  the  American  Agricultural  Society 
— get  a  premium,  perhaps; — commencement— students  give 
a  ball  and  supper — company  from  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
and  Albany — great  contest  which  spoke  the  best  English — 
Albanians  vociferous  in  their  demand  for  sturgeon — Phila- 
delphians  gave  the  preference  to  raccoon f  and  splacnuncs — 
gave  them  a  long  dissertation  on  the  phlegmatic  nature  of  a 
goose's  gizzard — students  can't  dance — always  set  off  with 
the  wrong  foot  foremost — Duport's  opinion  on  that  subject 
— Sir  Christopher  Hatton  the  first  man  who  ever  turned  out 
his  toes  in  dancing — great  favorite  with  Queen  Bess  on  that 
account — Sir  Walter  Raleigh — good  story  about  his  smoking 
— his  descent  into  New  Spain — El  Dorado — Candid— Dr.  Pan- 
gloss— Miss  Cunegunde — earthquake  at  Lisbon — Baron  of 
Thundertentronck  —  Jesuits  —  Monks  —  Cardinal  Wolsey  — 

Pope  Joan — Tom  Jefferson — Tom  Paine,  and  Tom  the 

whew!    N.B. — Students  got  drunk  as  usual. 

*  Vide  Carr.  f  Vide  Priest. 


of  U/asl?ii)$toi} 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

LEFT  Princeton — country  finely  diversified  with  sheep 
and  hay-stacks* — saw  a  man  riding  alone  in  a  wagon!  why 
the  deuce  didn't  the  blockhead  ride  hi  a  chair?  fellow  must 
be  a  fool — particular  account  of  the  construction  of  wagons — 
carts,  wheelbarrows  and  quail-traps — saw  a  large  flock  of 
crows— concluded  there  must  be  a  dead  horse  in  the  neigh- 
borhood— mem.,  country  remarkable  for  crows — won't  let  the 
horses  die  in  peace — anecdote  of  a  jury  of  crows— stopped  to 
give  the  horses  water — good-looking  man  came  up  and  asked 
me  if  I  had  seen  his  wife?  heavens!  thought  I,  how  strange 
it  is  that  this  virtuous  man  should  ask  me  about  his  wife — 
story  of  Cam  and  Abel — stage-driver  took  a  swig—  mem.,  set 
down  all  the  people  as  drunkards — old  house  had  moss  on 
the  top — swallows  built  in  the  roof — better  place  than  old 
men's  beards — story  about  that— derivation  of  words  kippy, 
kippy,  hippy  and  shoo-pig\ — negro  driver  could  not  write 
his  own  name — languishing  state  of  literature  in  this  country ;  J 
— philosophical  inquiry  of  'Sbidlikens,  why  the  Americans  are 
so  much  inferior  to  the  nobility  of  Cheapside  and  Shoreditch, 
and  why  they  do  not  eat  plum-pudding  on  Sundays; — super- 
fine reflections  about  anything. 


CHAPTER  SIX 

TRENTON — built  above  the  head  of  navigation  to  encourage 
commerce— capital  of  the  State§ — only  wants  a  castle,  a  bay, 
a  mountain,  a  sea,  and  a  volcano  to  bear  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  the  Bay  of  Naples — supreme  court  sitting — fat  chief 
justice — used  to  get  asleep  on  the  bench  after  dinner — gave 

•Vide  Carr.          f  Vide  Carr's  learned  derivation  of  gee  and  whoa. 
\  Moore.  §  Carr. 


59 

judgment,  I  suppose,  like  Pilate's  wife,  from  his  dreams — 
reminded  me  of  Justice  Bridlegoose  deciding  by  a  throw  of 
a  die,  and  of  the  oracle  of  the  holy  bottle — attempted  to  kiss 
the  chambermaid — boxed  my  ears  till  they  rung  like  our 
theater-bell — girl  had  lost  one  tooth — mem. ,  all  the  American 
ladies  prudes  and  have  bad  teeth ; — Anacreon  Moore's  opinion 
on  the  matter. — State-house — fine  place  to  see  the  sturgeons 
jump  up — query,  whether  sturgeons  jump  up  by  an  impulse 
of  the  tail,  or  whether  they  bounce  up  from  the  bottom  by 
the  elasticity  of  their  noses — Linkum  Fidelius  of  the  latter 
opinion — I  too — sturgeons'  nose  capital  for  tennis-balls — 
learned  that  at  school — went  to  a  ball — negro  wench  principal 
musician! — N.B.  People  of  America  have  no  fiddlers  but 
females! — origin  of  the  phrase,  "fiddle  of  your  heart" — rea- 
sons why  men  fiddle  better  than  women ; — expedient  of  the 
Amazons  who  were  expert  at  the  bow ; — waiter  at  the  city 
tavern — good  story  of  his— nothing  to  the  purpose — never 
mind — fill  up  my  book  like  Carr — make  it  sell.  Saw  a  demo- 
crat get  into  the  stage  followed  by  his  dog.*  N.B.  This 
town  remarkable  for  dogs  and  democrats— superfine  senti- 
mentf— good  story  from  Joe  Miller — ode  to  a  piggin  of  butter 
— pensive  meditations  on  a  mouse-hole — make  a  book  as  clear 
as  a  whistle ! 


No.  V.— SATURDAY,  MARCH    7,   1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

THE  following  letter  of  my  friend  Mustapha  appears  to 
have  been  written  some  time  subsequent  to  the  one  already 
published.  Were  I  to  jud^e  from  its  contents,  I  should  sup- 
pose it  was  suggested  by  the  splendid  review  of  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  last  November;  when  a  pair  of  colors  was  presented 

*  Moore  t  Carr. 


6C  \I/orl{8  of 

at  the  City  Hall  to  the  regiments  of  artillery,  and  when  a 
huge  dinner  was  devoured  by  our  corporation  in  the  honorable 
remembrance  of  the  evacuation  of  this  city.  I  am  happy  to 
find  that  the  laudable  spirit  of  military  emulation  which 
prevails  in  our  city  has  attracted  the  attention  of  a  stranger 
of  Mustapha's  sagacity;  by  military  emulation  I  mean  that 
spirited  rivalry  in  the  size  of  a  hat,  the  length  of  a  feather, 
and  the  gingerbread  finery  of  a  sword  belt. 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KELI 

KHAN, 

TO    ABDALLAH    EB'N    AL    RAHAB,    SURNAME])    THE    SNORER, 

MILITARY    SENTINEL    AT    THE    GATE    OF    HIS    HIGH- 

NESS'S    PALACE 

THOU  hast  heard,  oh  Abdallah,  of  the  great  magician, 
Muley  Fuz,  who  could  change  a  blooming  land,  blessed  with 
all  the  elysian  charms  of  hill  and  dale,  of  glade  and  grove, 
of  fruit  and  flower,  into  a  desert,  frightful,  solitary,  and  for- 
lorn ;  who  with  the  wave  of  his  wand  could  transform  even 
the  disciples  of  Mahomet  into  grinning  apes  and  chattering 
monkeys.  Surely,  thought  I  to  myself  this  morning,  the 
dreadful  Muley  has  been  exercising  his  infernal  enchant- 
ments on  these  unhappy  infidels.  Listen,  oh  Abdallah,  and 
wonder  I  Last  night  I  committed  myself  to  tranquil  slumber, 
encompassed  with  all  the  monotonous  tokens  of  peace,  and 
this  morning  I  awoke  enveloped  in  the  noise,  the  bustle,  the 
clangor  and  the  shouts  of  war.  Everything  was  changed  as 
if  by  magic.  An  immense  army  had  sprung  up  like  mush- 
rooms in  a  night ;  and  all  the  cobblers,  tailors,  and  linkers  of 
the  city  had  mounted  the  nodding  plume;  had  become,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  helmeted  heroes  and  war-worn 
veterans. 

Alarmed  at  the  beating  of  drums,  the  braying  of  trumpets, 
and  the  shouting  of  the  multitude,  I  dressed  myself  in  haste, 


Sal/na$ur>df  01 

sallied  forth  and  followed  a  prodigious  crowd  of  people  to  a 
place  called  the  Battery.  This  is  so  denominated,  I  am  told, 
from  having  once  been  defended  with  formidable  wooden 
bulwarks,  which,  in  the  course  of  a  hard  winter,  were 
thriftily  pulled  to  pieces  by  an  economic  corporation  to  be 
distributed  for  firewood  among  the  poor;  this  was  done  at 
the  hint  of  a  cunning  old  engineer,  who  assured  them  it  was 
the  only  way  in  which  their  fortifications  would  ever  be  able 
to  keep  up  a  warm  fire.  ECONOMY,  my  friend,  is  the  watch- 
word of  this  nation;  I  have  been  studying  for  a  month  past 
to  divine  its  meaning,  but  truly  am  as  much  perplexed  as 
ever.  It  is  a  kind  of  national  starvation;  an  experiment  how 
many  comforts  and  necessaries  the  body  politic  can  be  de- 
prived of  before  it  perishes.  It  has  already  arrived  to  a 
lamentable  degree  of  debility,  and  promises  to  share  the  fate 
of  the  Arabian  philosopher  who  proved  that  he  could  live 
without  food,  but  unfortunately  died  just  as  he  had  brought 
his  experiment  to  perfection. 

On  arriving  at  the  Battery,  I  found  an  immense  army  of 
six  HUNDRED  MEN  drawn  up  in  a  true  Mussulman  crescent. 
At  first  I  supposed  this  was  in  compliment  to  myself,  but 
my  interpreter  informed  me  that  it  was  done  merely  for  want 
of  room ;  the  corporation  not  being  able  to  afford  them  suffi- 
cient to  display  hi  a  straight  line.  As  I  expected  a  display 
of  some  grand  evolutions  and  military  maneuvers,  I  deter- 
mined to  remain  a  tranquil  spectator,  in  hopes  that  I  might 
possibly  collect  some  hints  which  might  be  of  service  to  his 
highness. 

This  great  body  of  men  I  perceived  was  under  the  com- 
mand of  a  small  bashaw^  in  yellow  and  gold,  with  white 
nodding  plumes,  and  most  formidable  whiskers ;  which,  con- 
trary to  the  Tripolitan  fashion,  were  in  the  neighborhood  of 
his  ears  instead  of  his  nose.  He  had  two  attendants  called 
aides-de-camp  (or  tails),  being  similar  to  a  bashaw  with  two 
tails.  The  bashaw,  though  commander-in-chief,  seemed  to 
have  little  more  to  do  than  myself;  he  was  a  spectator  within 
the  lines  and  I  without:  he  was  clear  of  the  rabble  and  I  wa* 


02  U/or^s  of  U/asl?iQ$toi)  Irvlgq 

encompassed  by  them;  this  was  the  only  difference  between 
us,  except  that  he  had  the  best  opportunity  of  showing  his 
clothes.  I  waited  an  hour  or  two  with  exemplary  patience, 
expecting  to  see  some  grand  military  evolutions  or  a  sham 
battle  exhibited ;  but  no  such  thing  took  place ;  the  men  stood 
stock  still,  supporting  their  arms,  groaning  under  the  fatigues 
of  war,  and  now  and  then  sending  out  a  foraging  party  to 
levy  contributions  of  beer  and  a  favorite  beverage  which 
they  denominate  grog.  As  I  perceived  the  crowd  very  active 
in  examining  the  line  from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  and  as 
I  could  see  no  other  purpose  for  which  these  sunshine  war- 
riors should  be  exposed  so  long  to  the  merciless  attacks  of 
wind  and  weather,  I  of  course  concluded  that  this  must  be 
the  review. 

In  about  two  hours  the  army  was  put  in  motion,  and 
inarched  through  some  narrow  streets  where  the  economic 
corporation  had  carefully  provided  a  soft  carpet  of  mud,  to 
a  magnificent  castle  of  painted  brick,  decorated  with  grand 
pillars  of  pine  boards.  By  the  ardor  which  brightened  in 
each  countenance  I  soon  perceived  that  this  castle  was  to 
undergo  a  vigorous  attack.  As  the  ordnance  of  the  castle 
was  perfectly  silent,  and  as  they  had  nothing  but  a  straight 
street  to  advance  through,  they  made  their  approaches  with 
great  courage  and  admirable  regularity,  until  within  about  a 
hundred  feet  ot  the  castle  a  pump  opposed  a  formidable 
obstacle  in  their  way  and  put  the  whole  army  to  a  nonplus. 
The  circumstance  was  sudden  and  unlocked  for;  the  com- 
manding officer  ran  over  all  the  military  tactics  with  which 
his  head  was  crammed,  but  none  offered  any  expedient  for 
the  present  awful  emergency  The  pump  maintained  its 
post,  and  so  did  the  commander;  there  was  no  knowing 
which  was  most  at  a  stand.  The  commanding  officer  ordered 
his  men  to  wheel  and  take  it  in  flank ;  the  army  accordingly 
•wheeled  and  came  full  butt  against  it  in  the  rear,  exactly  as 
they  were  before. — "Wheel  to  the  left!"  cried  the  officer; 
they  did  so,  and  again  as  before  the  inveterate  pump  inter- 
cepted their  progress.  "Bight  about  face!"  cried  the  officer; 


63 

the  men  obeyed,  but  bungled.  They  faced  back  to  back. 
Upon  this  the  bashaw  with  two  tails,  with  great  coolness 
undauntedly  ordered  his  men  to  push  right  forward,  pell- 
mell,  pump  or  no  pump;  they  gallantly  obeyed;  after  un- 
heard-of acts  of  bravery  the  pump  was  carried  without  the 
loss  of  a  man,  and  the  army  firmly  intrenched  itself  under 
the  very  walls  of  the  castle.  The  bashaw  had  then  a  council 
of  war  with  his  officers ;  the  most  vigorous  measures  were 
resolved  on.  An  advance  guard  of  musicians  were  ordered 
to  attack  the  castle  without  mercy.  Then  the  whole  band 
opened  a  most  tremendous  battery  of  drums,  fifes,  tambour- 
ines and  trumpets,  and  kept  up  a  thundering  assault,  as  if 
the  castle,  like  the  walls  of  Jericho,  spoken  of  in  the  Jewish 
chronicles,  would  tumble  down  at  the  blowing  of  rams' 
horns.  After  some  time  a  parley  ensued.  The  grand  bashaw 
of  the  city  appeared  on  the  battlements  of  the  castle,  and,  as 
far  as  I  could  understand  from  circumstances,  dared  the  little 
bashaw  of  two  tails  to  single  combat.  This  thou  knowest 
was  in  the  style  of  ancient  chivalry.  The  little  bashaw  dis- 
mounted with  great  intrepidity  and  ascended  the  battlements 
of  the  castle,  where  the  great  bashaw  waited  to  receive  him, 
attended  by  numerous  dignitaries  and  worthies  of  his  court, 
one  of  whom  bore  the  splendid  banners  of  the  castle.  The 
battle  was  carried  on  entirely  by  words,  according  to  the 
universal  custom  of  this  country,  of  which  I  shall  speak 
to  thee  more  fully  hereafter.  The  grand  bashaw  made  a 
furious  attack  in  a  speech  of  considerable  length;  the  little 
bashaw,  by  no  means  appalled,  retorted  with  great  spirit. 
The  grand  bashaw  attempted  to  rip  him  up  with  an  argu- 
ment, or  'stun  him  with  a  solid  fact ;  but  the  little  bashaw 
parried  them  both  with  admirable  adroitness,  and  ran  him 
clean  through  and  through  with  a  syllogism.  The  grand 
bashaw  was  overthrown,  the  banners  of  the  castle  yielded  up 
to  the  little  bashaw,  and  the  castle  surrendered  after  a  vigor- 
ous defense  of  three  hours — during  which  the  besiegers  suf- 
fered great  extremity  from  muddy  streets  and  a  drizzling 
atmosphere. 


04  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii7$tor> 

On  returning  to  dinner  I  soon  discovered  that  as  usual  I 
had  been  indulging  in  a  great  mistake.  The  matter  was  all 
clearly  explained  to  me  by  a  fellow  lodger,  who  on  ordinary 
occasions  moves  in  the  humble  character  of  a  tailor,  but  in 
the  present  instance  figured  in  a  high  military  station,  de- 
nominated corporal.  He  informed  me  that  what  I  had 
mistaken  for  a  castle  was  the  splendid  palace  of  the  munic- 
ipality, and  that  the  supposed  attack  was  nothing  more  than 
the  delivery  of  a  flag  given  by  the  authorities  to  the  army 
for  its  magnanimous  defense  of  the  town  for  upward  of 
twenty  years  past,  that  is,  ever  since  the  last  war !  Oh,  my 
friend,  surely  everything  in  this  country  is  on  a  great  scale ! 
The  conversation  insensibly  turned  upon  the  military  estab- 
lishment of  the  nation ;  and  I  do  assure  thee  that  my  friend 
the  tailor,  though  being,  according  to  a  national  proverb, 
but  the  ninth  part  of  a  man,  yet  acquitted  himself  on  military 
concerns  as  ably  as  the  grand  bashaw  of  the  empire  himself. 
He  observed  that  their  rulers  had  decided  that  wars  were 
very  useless  and  expensive,  and  ill  befitting  an  economic, 
philosophic  nation ;  they  had  therefore  made  up  their  minds 
never  to  have  any  wars,  and  consequently  there  was  no  need 
of  soldiers  or  military  discipline.  As,  however,  it  was 
thought  highly  ornamental  to  a  city  to  have  a  number  of 
men  dressed  in  fine  clothes  and  feathers  strutting  about  the 
streets  on  a  holiday,  and  as  the  women  and  children  were 
particularly  fond  of  such  raree  shows,  it  was  ordered  that  the 
tailors  of  the  different  cities  throughout  the  empire  should, 
forthwith,  go  to  work  and  cut  out  and  manufacture  soldiers 
as  fast  as  their  shears  and  needles  would  permit. 

These  soldiers  have  no  pecuniary  pay;  and  their  only 
recompense  for  the  immense  services  which  they  render  the 
country  in  their  voluntary  parades  is  the  plunder  of  smiles, 
and  winks,  and  nods  which  they  extort  from  the  ladies.  As 
they  have  no  opportunity,  like  the  vagrant  Arabs,  of  making 
inroads  on  their  neighbors,  and  as  it  is  necessary  to  keep  up 
their  military  spirit,  the  town  is  therefore  now  and  then,  but 
particularly  on  two  days  of  the  year,  given  up  to  their  rar- 


ages.  The  arrangements  are  contrived  with  admirable  ad- 
dress, so  that  every  officer,  from  the  bashaw  down  to  the 
drum-major,  the  chief  of  the  eunuchs  or  musicians,  shall 
have  his  share  of  that  invaluable  booty,  the  admiration  of  the 
fair.  As  to  the  soldiers,  poor  animals,  they,  like  the  privates 
in  all  great  armies,  have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  danger  and 
fatigue  while  their  officers  receive  all  the  glory  and  reward. 
The  narrative  of  a  parade  day  will  exemplify  this  more 
clearly. 

The  chief  bashaw,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  authority,  or- 
ders a  grand  review  of  the  whole  army  at  two  o'clock.  The 
bashaw  with  two  tails,  that  he  may  have  an  opportunity  of 
vaporing  about  as  greatest  man  on  the  field,  orders  the  army 
to  assemble  at  twelve.  The  Maya,  or  colonel,  as  he  is  called, 
that  is,  commander  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  men,  orders 
his  regiment  or  tribe  to  collect  one  mile  at  least  from  the 
place  of  parade  at  eleven.  Each  captain,  or  fag-rag  as  we 
term  them,  commands  his  squad  to  meet  at  ten  at  least  a 
half  mile  from  the  regimental  parade;  and  to  close  all,  the 
chief  of  the  eunuchs  orders  his  infernal  concert  of  fifes, 
trumpets,  cymbals,  and  kettle-drums  to  assemble  at  ten! 
From  that  moment  the  city  receives  no  quarter.  All  is  noise, 
hooting,  hubbub  and  combustion.  Every  window,  door, 
crack  and  loophole,  from  the  garret  to  the  cellar,  is  crowded 
with  the  fascinating  fair  of  all  ages  and  of  all  complexions. 
The  mistress  smiles  through  the  windows  of  the  drawing- 
room;  the  chubby  chambermaid  lolls  out  of  the  attic  case- 
ment, and  a  host  of  sooty  wenches  roll  their  white  eyes  and 
grin  and  chatter  from  the  cellar  door. — Every  nymph  seems 
anxious  to  yield  voluntarily  that  tribute  which  the  heroes 
of  their  country  demand.  First  struts  the  chief  eunuch,  or 
drum-major,  at  the  head  of  his  sable  band,  magnificently 
arrayed  in  tarnished  scarlet.  Alexander  himself  could  not 
have  spurned  the  earth  more  superbly.  A  host  of  ragged 
boys  shout  in  his  train  and  inflate  the  bosom  of  the  warrior 
with  tenfold  self-complacency.  After  he  has  rattled  his 
kettle-drums  through  the  town,  and  swelled  and  swaggered 


66  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ii>$toi) 

like  a  turkey-cock  before  all  the  dingy  Floras,  and  Dianas, 
and  Junos,  and  Didos  of  his  acquaintance,  he  repairs  to 
his  place  of  destination  loaded  with  a  rich  booty  of  smiles 
and  approbation.  Next  comes  the  Fag-rag,  or  captain,  at 
the  head  of  his  mighty  band,  consisting  of  one  lieutenant, 
one  ensign  or  mute,  four  sergeants,  four  corporals,  one  drum- 
mer, one  fifer,  and  if  he  has  any  privates,  so  much  the  better 
for  himself.  In  marching  to  the  regimental  parade  he  is 
sure  to  paddle  through  the  street  or  lane  which  is  honored 
with  the  residence  of  his  mistress  or  intended,  whom  he  reso- 
lutely lays  under  a  heavy  contribution.  Truly  it  is  delectable 
to  behold  these  heroes,  as  they  march  along,  cast  side  glances 
at  the  upper  windows,  to  collect  the  smiles,  the  nods  and  the 
winks  which  the  enraptured  fair  ones  lavish  profusely  on 
the  magnanimous  defenders  of  their  country. 

The  fag  rags  having  conducted  their  squads  to  their  re- 
spective regiments,  then  comes  the  turn  of  the  colonel,  a 
bashaw  with  no  tails,  for  all  eyes  are  now  directed  to  him ; 
and  the  fag-rags,  and  the  eunuchs,  and  the  kettle-drummers, 
having  had  their  hour  of  notoriety,  are  confounded  and  lost 
in  the  military  crowd.  The  colonel  sets  his  whole  regiment 
in  motion ;  and,  mounted  on  a  mettlesome  charger,  frisks  and 
fidgets,  and  capers,  and  plunges  in  front,  to  the  great  enter- 
tainment of  the  multitude  and  the  great  hazard  of  himself 
and  his  neighbors.  Having  displayed  himself,  his  trappings, 
his  horse,  and  his  horsemanship,  he  at  length  arrives  at  the 
place  of  general  rendezvous;  blessed  with  the  universal  ad- 
miration of  his  countrywomen.  I  should  perhaps  mention 
a  squadron  of  hardy  veterans,  most  of  whom  have  seen  a 
deal  of  service  during  the  nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  their 
existence,  and  who,  most  gorgeously  equipped  in  tight  green 
jackets  and  breeches,  trot  and  amble  and  gallop  and  scamper 
like  little  devils  through  every  street  and  nook  and  corner 
and  poke-hole  of  the  city,  to  the  great  dread  of  all  old  people 
and  sage  matrons  with  young  children.  This  is  truly  sub- 
lime !  this  is  what  I  call  making  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole- 
hill. Oh,  my  friend,  on  what  a  great  scale  is  everything  iu 


Salma$ui)di  67 

this  country.  It  is  in  the  style  of  the  wandering  Arabs  of 
the  desert  El-tih.  Is  a  village  to  be  attacked,  or  a  hamlet 
to  be  plundered,  the  whole  desert,  for  weeks  beforehand,  is 
in  a  buzz.  Such  marching  and  countermarching,  ere  they 
can  concentrate  their  ragged  forces !  and  the  consequence  is 
that  before  they  can  bring  their  troops  into  action  the  whole 
enterprise  is  blown. 

The  army  being  all  happily  collected  on  the  Battery, 
though,  perhaps,  two  hours  after  the  time  appointed,  it  is 
now  the  turn  of  the  bashaw  with  two  tails  to  distinguish 
himself.  Ambition,  my  friend,  is  implanted  alike  in  every 
heart ;  it  pervades  each  bosom,  from  the  bashaw  to  the  drum 
major.  This  is  a  sage  truism,  and  I  trust,  therefore,  it  will 
not  be  disputed.  The  bashaw,  fired  with  that  thirst  for  glory 
inseparable  from  the  noble  mind,  is  anxious  to  reap  a  full 
share  of  the  laurels  of  the  day  and  bear  off  his  portion  of 
female  plunder.  The  drums  beat,  the  fifes  whistle,  the 
standards  wave  proudly  in  the  air.  The  signal  is  given! 
thunder  roars  the  cannon !  away  goes  the  bashaw,  and  away 
go  the  tails!  The  review  finished,  evolutions  and  military 
maneuvers  are  generally  dispensed  with  for  three  excellent 
reasons;  first,  because  the  army  knows  very  little  about 
them;  second,  because,  as  the  country  has  determined  to 
remain  always  at  peace,  there  is  no  necessity  for  them  to 
know  anything  about  them ;  and  third,  as  it  is  growing  late, 
the  bashaw  must  dispatch,  or  it  will  be  too  dark  for  him  to 
get  his  quota  of  the  plunder.  He  of  course  orders  the  whole 
army  to  march;  and  now,  my  friend,  now  comes  the  tug  of 
war,  now  is  the  city  completely  sacked.  Open  fly  the  Battery 
gates,  forth  sallies  the  bashaw  with  his  two  tails,  surrounded 
by  a  shouting  bodyguard  of  boys  and  negroes !  then  pour  forth 
his  legions,  potent  as  the  pismires  of  the  desert !  the  custom- 
ary salutations  of  the  country  commence — those  tokens  of  joy 
and  admiration  which  so  much  annoyed  me  on  first  landing : 
the  air  is  darkened  with  old  hats,  shoes,  and  dead  cats;  they 
fly  in  showers  like  the  arrows  of  the  Parthians.  The  sol- 
diers, no  ways  disheartened,  like  the  intrepid  followers  of 


68  UYorKs  of  U/asl?io<$tor? 

Leonidas,  march  gallantly  under  their  shade.  On  they  push, 
splash-dash,  mud  or  no  mud.  Down  one  lane,  up  another; 
the  martial  music  resounds  through  every  street;  the  fair 
ones  throng  to  their  windows — the  soldiers  look  every  way 
but  straight  forward.  "Carry  arms,"  cries  the  bashaw — 
"tan-ta  ra-ra,"  brays  the  trumpet — "rub-a-dub,"  roars  the 
drum — "hurrah,"  shout  the  ragamuffins.  The  bashaw 
smiles  with  exultation — every  fag-rag  feels  himself  a  hero — 
"none  but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair!"  Head  of  the  im- 
mortal Amrou,  on  what  a  great  scale  is  everything  in  this 
country. 

Ay,  but  you'll  say  is  not  this  unfair  that  the  officers 
should  share  all  the  sports  while  the  privates  undergo  all  the 
fatigue?  Truly,  my  friend,  I  indulged  the  same  idea,  and 
pitied  from  my  heart  the  poor  fellows  who  had  to  drabble 
through  the  mud  and  the  mire,  toiling  under  ponderous 
cocked  hats,  which  seemed  as  unwieldy  and  cumbrous  as  the 
shell  which  the  snail  lumbers  along  on  his  back.  I  soon 
found  out,  however,  that  they  have  their  quantum  of  noto- 
riety. As  soon  as  the  army  is  dismissed,  the  city  swarms 
with  little  scouting  parties,  who  fire  off  their  guns  at  every 
corner,  to  the  great  delight  of  all  the  women  and  children  in 
their  vicinity;  and  woe  unto  any  dog,  or  pig,  or  hog,  that 
falls  in  the  way  of  these  magnanimous  warriors;  they  are 
shown  no  quarter.  Every  gentle  swain  repairs  to  pass  the 
evening  at  the  feet  of  his  dulcinea,  to  play  "the  soldier  tired 
of  war's  alarms,"  and  to  captivate  her  with  the  glare  of  his 
regimentals ;  excepting  some  ambitious  heroes  who  strut  to 
the  theater,  flame  away  in  the  front  boxes,  and  hector  every 
old  apple-woman  in  the  lobbies. 

Such,  my  friend,  is  the  gigantic  genius  of  this  nation,  and 
its  faculty  of  swelling  up  nothings  into  importance.  Our 
bashaw  of  Tripoli  will  review  his  troops  of  some  thousands 
by  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  Here  a  review  of  six  hun- 
dred men  is  made  the  mighty  work  of  a  day!  "With  us  a 
bashaw  of  two  tails  is  never  appointed  to  a  command  of  less 
than  ten  thousand  men;  but  here  we  behold  every  grade, 


Salma$updi  69 

from  the  bashaw  down  to  the  drum-major,  in  a  force  of  less 
than  one-tenth  of  the  number.  By  the  beard  of  Mahomet, 
but  everything  here  is  indeed  on  a  great  scale ! 


BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

I  WAS  not  a  little  surprised  the  other  morning  at  a  request 
from  Will  Wizard  that  I  would  accompany  him  that  evening 

to  Mrs. 's  ball.     The  request  was  simple  enough  in  itself, 

it  was  only  singular  as  coming  from  Will.  Of  all  my  ac- 
quaintance, Wizard  is  the  least  calculated  and  disposed  for 
the  society  of  ladies — not  that  he  dislikes  their  company ;  on 
the  contrary,  like  every  man  of  pith  and  marrow,  he  is  a 
professed  admirer  of  the  sex ;  and  had  he  been  born  a  poet 
would  undoubtedly  have  bespattered  and  be-rhymed  some 
hard-named  goddess  until  she  became  as  famous  as  Petrarch's 
Laura  or  Waller's  Sacharissa;  but  Will  is  such  a  confounded 
bungler  at  a  bow,  has  so  many  odd  bachelor  habits,  and  finds 
it  so  troublesome  to  be  gallant,  that  he  generally  prefers 
smoking  his  cigar  and  telling  his  story  among  cronies  of  his 
own  gender :  and  thundering  long  stories  they  are,  let  me 
tell  you.  Set  Will  once  agoing  about  China,  or  Grim  Tar- 
tary,  or  the  Hottentots,  and  heaven  help  the  poor  victim  who 
has  to  endure  his  prolixity ;  he  might  better  be  tied  to  the 
tail  of  a  jack-o'-lantern.  In  one  word — Will  talks  like  a 
traveler.  Being  well  acquainted  with  his  character,  I  was 
the  more  alarmed  at  his  inclination  to  visit  a  party ;  since  he 
has  often  assured  me  that  he  considered  it  as  equivalent  to 
being  stuck  up  for  three  hours  in  a  steam-engine.  I  even 
wondered  how  he  had  received  an  invitation ;  this  he  soon  ac- 
counted for.  It  seems  Will,  on  his  last  arrival  from  Canton, 
had  made  a  present  of  a  case  of  tea  to  a  lady  for  whom  he 
had  once  entertained  a  sneaking  kindness  when  at  grammar 
school ;  and  she  in  return  had  invited  him  to  come  and  drink 
some  of  it ;  a  cheap  way  enough  of  paying  off  little  obliga- 
tions. I  readily  acceded  to  Will's  proposition,  expecting 


70  U/or^s  of 

much  entertainment  from  his  eccentric  remarks ;  and  as  he 
has  been  absent  some  few  years,  I  anticipated  his  surprise  at 
the  splendor  and  elegance  of  a  modern  rout. 

On  calling  for  Will  in  the  evening,  I  found  him  full 
dressed  waiting  for  me.  I  contemplated  him  with  absolute 
dismay.  As  he  still  retained  a  spark  of  regard  for  the  lady 
who  once  reigned  in  his  affections,  he  had  been  at  unusual 
pains  in  decorating  his  person  and  broke  upon  my  sight  ar- 
rayed in  the  true  style  that  prevailed  among  our  beaux  some 
years  ago.  His  hair  was  turned  up  and  tufted  at  the  top, 
frizzled  out  at  the  ears,  a  profusion  of  powder  puffed  over 
the  whole,  and  a  long-plaited  club  swung  gracefully  from 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  describing  a  pleasing  semicricle  of  pow- 
der and  pomatum.  His  claret-colored  coat  was  decorated 
with  a  profusion  of  gilt  buttons  and  reached  to  his  calves. 
His  white  casimere  small-clothes  were  so  tight  that  he  seemed 
to  have  grown  up  in  them;  and  his  ponderous  legs,  which 
are  the  thickest  part  of  his  body,  were  beautifully  clothed  in 
sky-blue  silk  stockings,  once  considered  so  becoming.  But 
above  all,  he  prided  himself  upon  his  waistcoat  of  China  silk, 
which  might  almost  have  served  a  good  housewife  for  a  short 
gown ;  and  he  boasted  that  the  roses  and  tulips  upon  it  were 
the  work  of  Nang  Fou,  daughter  of  the  great  Chin-Chin- 
Fou,  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  graces  of  his  person 
and  sent  it  to  him  as  a  parting  present;  he  assured  me  she 
was  a  remarkable  beauty,  with  sweet  obliquity  of  eyes,  and 
a  foot  no  larger  than  the  thumb  of  an  alderman.  He  then 
dilated  most  copiously  on  his  silver-sprigged  dicky,  which  he 
assured  me  was  quite  the  rage  among  the  dashing  young 
mandarins  of  Canton. 

I  hold  it  an  ill-natured  office  to  put  any  man  out  of  conceit 
with  himself ;  so,  though  I  would  willingly  have  made  a  little 
alteration  in  my  friend  Wizard's  picturesque  costume,  yet  I 
politely  complimented  him  on  his  rakish  appearance. 

On  entering  the  room  I  kept  a  good  lookout  on  Will, 
expecting  to  see  him  exhibit  signs  of  surprise ;  but  he  is  one 
of  those  knowing  fellows  who  are  never  surprised  at  any- 


71 

thing,  or  at  least  will  never  acknowledge'  it.  He  took  his 
stand  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  playing  with  his  great  steel 
watch-chain ;  and  looking  round  on  the  company,  the  furni- 
ture, and  the  pictures,  with  the  air  of  a  man  "who  had  seen 
d — d  finer  things  in  his  time' ' ;  and  to  my  utter  confusion 
and  dismay,  I  saw  him  coolly  pull  out  his  villainous  old 
japanned  tobacco  box,  ornamented  with  a  bottle,  a  pipe  and 
a  scurvy  motto,  and  help  himself  to  a  quid  in  face  of  all  the 
company. 

I  knew  it  was  all  in  vain  to  find  fault  with  a  fellow  of 
Will's  socratic  turn,  who  is  never  to  be  put  out  of  humor 
with  himself;  so,  after  he  had  given  his  box  its  prescriptive 
rap  and  returned  it  to  his  pocket,  I  drew  him  into  a  corner 
where  we  might  observe  the  company  without  being  promi- 
nent objects  ourselves. 

"And  pray  who  is  that  stylish  figure,"  said  Will,  "who 
blazes  away  in  red,  like  a  volcano,  and  who  seems  wrapped 
in  flames  like  a  fiery  dragon?" — That,  cried  I,  is  Miss  Lau- 
relia  Dashaway.  She  is  the  highest  flash  of  the  ton — has 
much  whim  and  more  eccentricity,  and  has  reduced  many 
an  unhappy  gentleman  to  stupidity  by  her  charms ;  you  see 
she  holds  out  the  red  flag  in  token  of  "no  quarter."  "Then 
keep  me  safe  out  of  the  sphere  of  her  attractions,"  cried  Will. 
"I  would  not  e'en  come  in  contact  with  her  train,  lest  it 
should  scorch  me  like  the  tail  of  a  comet. — But  who,  I  beg 
of  you,  is  that  amiable  youth  who  is  handing  along  a  young 
lady,  and  at  the  same  time  contemplating  his  sweet  person 
in  a  mirror  as  he  passes?"  His  name,  said  I,  is  Billy  Dimple; 
he  is  a  universal  smiler,  and  would  travel  from  Dan  to  Beer- 
sheba  and  smile  on  everybody  as  he  passed.  Dimple  is  a 
slave  to  the  ladies,  a  hero  at  tea  parties,  and  is  famous  at 
the  pirouet  and  the  pigeon- whig ;  a  fiddlestick  is  his  idol  and 
a  dance  his  elysium.  "A  very  pretty  young  gentleman, 
truly,"  cried  Wizard;  "he  reminds  me  of  a  contemporary 
beau  at  Hayti.  You  must  know  that  the  magnanimous 
Dessalines  gave  a  great  ball  to  his  court  one  fine  sultry  sum- 
mer's evening ;  Dessy  and  me  were  great  cronies — hand  and 


72  U/orl^s  of 

glove :  one  of  the  most  condescending  great  men  I  ever  knew. 
Such  a  display  of  black  and  yellow  beauties !  such  a  show  of 
Madras  handkerchiefs,  red  beads,  cock's-tails  and  peacock's 
feathers! — it  was,  as  here,  who  should  wear  the  highest  top- 
knot, drag  the  longest  tails,  or  exhibit  the  greatest  variety  of 
combs,  colors  and  gewgaws.  In  the  middle  of  the  rout, 
when  all  was  buzz,  slip-slop,  clack  and  perfume,  who  should 
enter  but  Tucky  Squash !  The  yellow  beauties  blushed  blue 
and  the  black  ones  blushed  as  red  as  they  could  with  pleas- 
ure, and  there  was  a  universal  agitation  of  fans;  every  eye 
brightened  and  whitened  to  see  Tucky ;  for  he  was  the  pride 
of  the  court,  the  pink  of  courtesy,  the  mirror  of  fashion,  the 
adoration  of  all  the  sable  fair  ones  of  Hayti.  Such  breadth 
of  nose,  such  exuberance  of  lip!  his  shins  had  the  true  cu- 
cumber curve ;  his  face  in  dancing  shone  like  a  kettle ;  and, 
provided  you  kept  to  windward  of  him  in  summer,  I  do  not 
know  a  sweeter  youth  in  all  Hayti  than  Tucky  Squash, 
When  he  laughed,  there  appeared  from  ear  to  ear  a  chevaux- 
de-frize  of  teeth  that  rivaled  the  shark's  in  whiteness;  he 
could  whistle  like  a  northwester;  play  on  a  three-stringed 
fiddle  like  Apollo;  and  as  to  dancing,  no  Long  Island  negro 
could  shuffle  you  'double- trouble'  or  'hoe  corn  and  dig 
potatoes'  more  scientifically.  In  short,  he  was  a  second 
Lothario.  And  the  dusky  nymphs  of  Hayti,  one  and  all, 
declared  him  a  perpetual  Adonis.  Tucky  walked  about, 
whistling  to  himself,  without  regarding  anybody;  and  his 
nonchalance  was  irresistible." 

I  found  Will  had  got  neck  and  heels  into  one  of  his  trav- 
elers' stories;  and  there  is  no  knowing  how  far  he  would 
have  run  his  parallel  between  Billy  Dimple  and  Tucky 
Squash,  had  not  the  music  struck  up  from  an  adjoining 
apartment  and  summoned  the  company  to  the  dance.  The 
sound  seemed  to  have  an  inspiring  effect  on  honest  Will,  and 
he  procured  the  hand  of  an  old  acquaintance  for  a  country 
dance.  It  happened  to  be  the  fashionable  one  of  "the  Devil 
among  the  tailors,"  which  is  so  vociferously  demanded  at 
every  ball  and  assembly  and  many  a  torn  gown  and  many 


Salma^updi  73 

an  unfortunate  toe  did  rue  the  dancing  of  that  night;  for 
Will,  thundering  down  the  dance  like  a  coach  and  six,  some- 
times right,  sometimes  wrong;  now  running  over  half  a 
score  of  little  Frenchmen,  and  now  making  sad  inroads  into 
ladies'  cobweb  muslins  and  spangled  tails.  As  every  part  of 
Will's  body  partook  of  the  exertion,  he  shook  from  his  capa- 
cious head  such  volumes  of  powder  that,  like  pious  Eneas  on 
the  first  interview  with  Queen  Dido,  he  might  be  said  to 
have  been  enveloped  in  a  cloud.  Nor  was  Will's  partner  an 
insignificant  figure  in  the  scene;  she  was  a  young  lady  of 
most  voluminous  proportions,  that  quivered  at  every  skip; 
and  being  braced  up  in  the  fashionable  style  with  whalebone, 
stay-tape  and  buckram,  looked  like  an  apple  pudding  tied  in 
the  middle;  or,  taking  her  flaming  dress  into  consideration, 
like  a  bed  and  bolsters  rolled  up  in  a  suit  of  red  curtains. 
The  dance  finished. — I  would  gladly  have  taken  Will  off;  but 
no,  he  was  now  in  one  of  his  happy  moods,  and  there  was 
no  doing  anything  with  him.  He  insisted  on  my  introducing 
him  to  Miss  Sophy  Sparkle,  a  young  lady  unrivaled  for  play- 
ful wit  and  innocent  vivacity,  and  who,  like  a  brilliant,  adds 
luster  to  the  front  of  fashion.  I  accordingly  presented  him 
to  her,  and  began  a  conversation  in  which,  I  thought,  he 
might  take  a  share ;  but  no  such  thing.  Will  took  his  stand 
before  her,  straddling  like  a  Colossus,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  an  air  of  the  most  profound  attention ;  nor  did 
he  pretend  to  open  his  lips  for  some  time,  until,  upon  some 
lively  sally  of  hers,  he  electrified  the  whole  company  with  a 
most  intolerable  burst  of  laughter.  What  was  to  be  done 
with  such  an  incorrigible  fellow?  To  add  to  my  distress,  the 
first  word  he  spoke  was  to  tell  Miss  Sparkle  that  something 
she  said  reminded  him  of  a  circumstance  that  happened  to 
him  in  China.  And  at  it  he  went,  in  the  true  traveler  style 
— described  the  Chinese  mode  of  eating  rice  with  chop-sticks; 
entered  into  a  long  eulogium  on  the  succulent  qualities  of 
boiled  bird's  nests;  and  I  made  my  escape  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  he  was  on  the  point  of  squatting  down  on  the 
floor,  to  show  how  the  little  Chinese  Joshes  sit  cross-legged. 

*  *  *  D  VOL.  V. 


of  U/asI?i()$toi> 


TO    THE    LADIES 

PROM   THE   MILL   OF   PINDAR    COCKLOFT,    ESQ. 

THOUGH  jogging  down  the  hill  of  life, 
Without  the  comfort  of  a  wife  ; 
And  though  I  ne'er  a  helpmate  chose, 
To  stock  my  house  and  mend  my  hose  ; 
With  care  my  person  to  adorn, 
And  spruce  me  up  on  Sunday  morn;  — 
Still  do  I  love  the  gentle  sex, 
And  still  with  cares  my  brain  perplex 
To  keep  the  fair  ones  of  the  age 
Unsullied  as  the  spotless  page  ; 
All  pure,  all  simple,  all  refined, 
The  sweetest  solace  of  mankind. 

I  hate  the  loose,  insidious  jest 
To  beauty's  modest  ear  addrest, 
And  hold  that  frowns  should  never  fail 
To  check  each  smooth,  but  fulsome  tale; 
But  he  whose  impious  pen  should  dare 
Invade  the  morals  of  the  fair; 
To  taint  that  purity  divine 
Which  should  each  female  heart  enshrine; 
Though  soft  his  vicious  strains  should  swell. 
As  those  which  erst  from  Gabriel  fell, 
Should  yet  be  held  aloft  to  shame, 
And  foul  dishonor  shade  his  name. 
Judge,  then,  my  friends,  of  my  surprise, 
The  ire  that  kindled  in  my  eyes, 
When  I  relate  that  t'other  day 
I  went  a  morning-call  to  pay, 
On  two  young  nieces  ;  just  come  down 
To  take  the  polish  of  the  town. 
By  which  I  mean  no  more  or  less 


Salma$ui?di  75 


Than  a  la  Francaise  to  undress; 
To  whirl  the  modest  waltz's  rounds, 
Taught  by  Duport  for  snug  ten  pounds. 
To  thump  and  thunder  through  a  song, 
"Play  fortes  soft  and  dolces  strong; 
Exhibit  loud  piano  feats, 
Caught  from  that  crotchet-hero,  Meetz  : 
To  drive  the  rose-bloom  from  the  face, 
And  fix  the  lily  in  its  place  ; 
To  doff  the  white,  and  in  its  stead 
To  bounce  about  in  brazen  red. 
While  hi  the  parlor  I  delay'd 
Till  they  their  persons  had  array'd, 
A  dapper  volume  caught  my  eye, 
That  on  the  window  chanced  to  lie: 
A  book's  a  friend  —  I  always  choose 
To  turn  its  pages  and  peruse. 
It  proved  those  poems  known  to  fame 
For  praising  every  cyprian  dame; 
The  bantlings  of  a  dapper  youth, 
Renown'd  for  gratitude  and  truth: 
A  little  pest,  hight  TOMMY  MOORE, 
Who  hopp'd  and  skipp'd  our  country 
Who  sipp'd  our  tea  and  lived  on  sops, 
RevePd  on  syllabubs  and  slops, 
And  when  his  brain,  of  cobweb  fine, 
"Was  fuddled  with  five  drops  of  wine, 
Would  all  his  puny  loves  rehearse, 
And  many  a  maid  debauch  —  in  verse. 
Surprised  to  meet  in  open  view, 
A  book  of  such  lascivious  hue, 
I  chid  my  nieces  —  but  they  say 
'Tis  all  the  passion  of  the  day; 
That  many  a  fashionable  belle 
Will  with  enraptured  accents  dwell 
On  the  sweet  morceau  she  has  found 
In  this  delicious,  cursed  compound  1 


76  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ii)$toi) 

Soft  do  the  tinkling  numbers  roll, 
And  lure  to  vice  the  unthinking  soul; 
They  tempt  by  softest  sounds  away, 
They  lead  entranced  the  heart  astray; 
And  Satan's  doctrine  sweetly  sing, 
As  with  a  seraph's  heavenly  string. 
Such  sounds,  so  good  old  Homer  sung, 
Once  warbled  from  the  Siren's  tongue; 
Sweet,  melting  tones  were  heard  to  pour 
Along  Ausonia's  sun-gilt  shore; 
Seductive  strains  in  ether  float, 
And  every  wild  deceitful  note 
That  could  the  yielding  heart  assail 
"Were  wafted  on  the  breathing  gale; 
And  every  gentle  accent  bland 
To  tempt  Ulysses  to  their  strand. 

And  can  it  be  this  book  so  base 
Is  laid  on  every  window-case? 
Oh !  fair  ones,  if  you  will  profane 
Those  breasts  where  heaven  itself  should  reign* 
And  throw  those  pure  recesses  wide 
Where  peace  and  virtue  should  reside* 
To  let  the  holy  pile  admit 
A  guest  unhallowed  and  unfit; 
Pray,  like  the  frail  ones  of  the  night, 
Who  hide  their  wanderings  from  the  light, 
So  let  your  errors  secret  be, 
And  hide,  at  least,  your  fault  from  me : 
Seek  some  by-corner  to  explore 
The  smooth,  polluted  pages  o'er: 
There  drink  the  insidious  poison  in, 
There  slyly  nurse  your  souls  for  sin : 
And  while  that  purity  you  blight 
Which  stamps  you  messengers  of  light, 
And  sap  those  mounds  the  gods  bestow, 
To  keep  you  spotless  here  below; 
Still  in  compassion  to  our  race, 


77 


"Who  joy,  not  only  in  the  face, 

But  in  that  more  exalted  part, 

The  sacred  temple  of  the  heart; 

Oh!  hide  forever  from  our  view 

The  fatal  mischief  you  pursue  ? 

Let  MEN  your  praises  still  exalt, 

And  none  but  ANGELS  mourn  your  fault. 


No.   VI.— FRIDAY,   MARCH   20,    1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

THE  Cockloft  family,  of  which  I  have  made  such  fre- 
quent mention,  is  of  great  antiquity,  if  there  be  any  truth 
in  the  genealogical  tree  which  hangs  up  in  my  cousin's  li- 
bvary.  They  trace  their  descent  from  a  celebrated  Roman 
knight,  cousin  to  the  progenitor  of  his  majesty  of  Britain, 
who  left  his  native  country  on  occasion  of  some  disgust;  and 
coming  into  "Wales  became  a  great  favorite  of  Prince  Madoc, 
and  accompanied  that  famous  argonaut  in  the  voyage  which 
ended  in  the  discovery  of  this  continent.  Though  a  member 
of  the  family,  I  have  sometimes  ventured  to  doubt  the  au- 
thenticity of  this  portion  of  their  annals,  to  the  great  vexa- 
tion of  Cousin  Christopher :  who  is  looked  up  to  as  the  head 
of  our  house;  and  who,  though  as  orthodox  as  a  bishop, 
would  sooner  give  up  the  whole  Decalogue  than  lop  off  a  sin- 
gle limb  of  the  family  tree.  From  time  immemorial,  it  has 
been  the  rule  for  the  Cocklofts  to  marry  one  of  their  own 
name;  and  as  they  always  bred  like  rabbits,  the  family  has 
increased  and  multiplied  like  that  of  Adam  and  Eve.  In 
truth,  their  number  is  almost  incredible ;  and  you  can  hardly 
go  into  any  part  of  the  country  without  starting  a  warren  of 
genuine  Cocklofts.  Every  person  of  the  least  observation  or 
experience  must  have  observed  that  where  this  practice  of 


T8  U/orl^s  of 

marrying  cousins  and  second  cousins  prevails  in  a  family 
every  member  in  the  course  of  a  few  generations  becomes 
queer,  humorous,  and  original ;  as  much  distinguished  from 
the  common  race  of  mongrels  as  if  he  was  of  a  different 
species.  This  has  happened  in  our  family,  and  particularly 
in  that  branch  of  it  which  Mr.  Christopher  Cockloft,  or,  to 
do  him  justice,  Mr.  Christopher  Cockloft,  Esq.,  is  the  head. 
Christopher  is,  in  fact,  the  only  married  man  of  the  name 
who  resides  in  town ;  his  family  is  small,  having  lost  most  of 
his  children  when  young,  by  the  excessive  care  he  took  to 
bring  them  up  like  vegetables.  This  was  one  of  his  first 
whim-whams,  and  a  confounded  one  it  was,  as  his  children 
might  have  told  had  they  not  fallen  victims  to  this  expert 
ment  before  they  could  talk.  He  had  got  from  some  quack 
philosopher  or  other  a  notion  that  there  was  a  complete  anal- 
ogy between  children  and  plants,  and  that  they  ought  to  be 
both  reared  alike.  Accordingly,  he  sprinkled  them  every 
morning  with  water,  laid  them  out  in  the  sun,  as  he  did  his 
geraniums;  and  if  the  season  was  remarkably  dry,  repeated 
this  wise  experiment  three  or  four  times  of  a  morning.  The 
consequence  was  the  poor  little  souls  died  one  after  the  other, 
except  Jeremy  and  his  two  sisters,  who,  to  be  sure,  are  a  trio 
of  as  odd,  runty,  mummy-looking  originals  as  ever  Hogarth 
fancied  in  his  most  happy  moments.  Mrs.  Cockloft,  the 
larger  if  not  the  better  half  of  my  cousin,  often  remonstrated 
against  this  vegetable  theory ;  and  even  brought  the  parson 
of  the  parish  in  which  my  cousin's  country  house  is  situated 
to  her  aid,  but  in  vain :  Christopher  persisted,  and  attributed 
the  failure  of  his  plan  to  its  not  having  been  exactly  conformed 
to.  As  I  have  mentioned  Mrs.  Cockloft,  I  may  as  well  say 
a  little  more  about  her  while  I  am  in  the  humor.  She  is  a 
lady  of  wonderful  notability,  a  warm  admirer  of  shining 
mahogany,  clean  hearths,  and  her  husband;  who  she  con- 
siders the  wisest  man  in  the  world,  bating  Will  Wizard  and 
the  parson  of  our  parish ;  the  last  of  whom  is  her  oracle  on 
all  occasions.  She  goes  constantly  to  church  every  Sunday 
and  saint's  day;  and  insists  upon  it  that  no  man  is  entitled 


79 

to  ascend  a  pulpit  unleas  he  has  been  ordained  by  a  bishop-, 
nay,  so  far  does  she  carry  her  orthodoxy,  that  all  the  argu- 
ment in  the  world  will  never  persuade  her  that  a  Presby- 
terian or  Baptist,  or  even  a  Calvinist,  has  any  possible  chance 
of  going  to  heaven.  Above  everything  else,  however,  she 
abhors  paganism.  Can  scarcely  refrain  from  laying  violent 
hands  on  a  pantheon  when  she  meets  with  it ;  and  was  very 
nigh  going  into  hysterics  when  my  cousin  insisted  one  of  his 
boys  should  be  christened  after  our  laureate;  because  the 
parson  of  the  parish  had  told  her  that  Pindar  was  the  name 
of  a  pagan  writer,  famous  for  his  love  of  boxing-matches, 
wrestling,  and  horse-racing.  To  sum  up  all  her  qualifica- 
tions in  the  shortest  possible  way,  Mrs.  Cockloft  is,  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  phrase,  a  good  sort  of  woman ;  and  I  often 
congratulate  my  cousin  on  possessing  her.  The  rest  of  the 
family  consists  of  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger,  who  has  al- 
ready been  mentioned,  and  the  two  Misses  Cockloft,  or  rather 
the  young  ladies,  as  they  have  been  called  by  the  servants 
time  out  of  mind ;  not  that  they  are  really  young,  the  younger 
being  somewhat  on  the  shady  side  of  thirty,  but  it  has  ever 
been  the  custom  to  call  every  member  of  the  family  young 
under  fifty.  In  the  southeast  corner  of  the  house,  I  hold 
quiet  possession  of  an  old-fashioned  apartment,  where  myself 
and  my  elbow-chair  are  suffered  to  amuse  ourselves  undis- 
turbed, save  at  meal  times.  This  apartment  old  Cockloft 
has  facetiously  denominated  Cousin  Launce's  paradise ;  and 
the  good  old  gentleman  has  two  or  three  favorite  jokes  about 
it,  which  are  served  up  as  regularly  as  the  standing  family 
dish  of  beefsteaks  and  onions,  which  every  day  maintains 
its  station  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  in  defiance  of  mutton, 
poultry,  or  even  venison  itself. 

Though  the  family  is  apparently  small,  yet,  like  most  old 
establishments  of  the  kind,  it  does  not  want  for  honorary 
members.  It  is  the  city  rendezvous  of  the  Cocklofts;  and 
we  are  continually  enlivened  by  the  company  of  hah6  a  score 
of  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins,  in  the  fortieth  remove,  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  who  profess  a  wonderful  regard  for 


80  M/or^s  of  U/ael?ii)$tor) 

Cousin  Christopher,  and  overwhelm  every  member  of  his 
household,  down  to  the  cook  in  the  kitchen,  with  their  at- 
tentions. "We  have  for  three  weeks  past  been  greeted  with 
the  company  of  two  worthy  old  spinsters,  who  came  down 
from  the  country  to  settle  a  lawsuit.  They  have  done  little 
else  but  retail  stories  of  their  village  neighbors,  knit  stock- 
ings, and  take  snuff  all  the  time  they  have  been  here ;  the 
whole  family  are  bewildered  with  churchyard  tales  of  sheeted 
ghosts,  white  horses  without  heads  and  with  large  goggle 
eyes  in  their  buttocks;  and  not  one  of  the  old  servants  dare 
budge  an  inch  after  dark  without  a  numerous  company  at 
his  heels.  My  cousin's  visitors,  however,  always  return  his 
hospitality  with  due  gratitude,  and  now  and  then  remind 
him  of  their  fraternal  regard  by  a  present  of  a  pot  of  apple- 
sweetmeats  or  a  barrel  of  sour  cider  at  Christmas.  Jeremy 
displays  himself  to  great  advantage  among  his  country  re- 
lations, who  all  think  him  a  prodigy;  and  often  stand  as- 
tounded, in  "gaping  wonderment,"  at  his  natural  philosophy. 
He  lately  frightened  a  simple  old  uncle  almost  out  of  his 
wits,  by  giving  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  earth  would  one 
day  be  scorched  to  ashes  by  the  eccentric  gambols  of  the 
famous  comet  so  much  talked  of;  and  positively  asserted 
that  this  world  revolved  round  the  sun,  and  that  the  moon 
was  certainly  inhabited. 

The  family  mansion  bears  equal  marks  of  antiquity  with 
its  inhabitants.  As  the  Cocklofts  are  remarkable  for  their 
attachment  to  every  thing  that  has  remained  long  in  the  fam- 
ily, they  are  bigoted  toward  their  old  edifice,  and  I  daresay 
would  sooner  have  it  crumble  about  their  ears  than  abandon 
it.  The  consequence  is  it  has  been  so  patched  up  and  re- 
paired that  it  has  become  as  full  of  whims  and  oddities  as  it» 
tenants;  requires  to  be  nursed  and  humored  like  a  gouty  old 
codger  of  an  alderman ;  and  reminds  one  of  the  famous  ship 
in  which  a  certain  admiral  circumnavigated  the  globe,  which 
was  so  patched  and  timbered,  in  order  to  preserve  so  great  a 
curiosity,  that  at  length  not  a  particle  of  the  original  re- 
mained. Whenever  the  wind  blows  the  old  mansion  makes 


81 

a  most  perilous  groaning ;  and  every  storm  is  sure  to  make 
a  day's  work  for  the  carpenter,  who  attends  upon  it  as  regu- 
larly as  the  family  physician.  This  predilection  for  every- 
thing that  has  been  long  in  the  family  shows  itself  in  every 
particular.  The  domestics  are  all  grown  gray  in  the  service 
of  our  house.  We  have  a  little,  old,  crusty,  gray-headed 
negro,  who  has  lived  through  two  or  three  generations  of  the 
Cocklofts;  and,  of  course,  has  become  a  personage  of  no  lit- 
tle importance  in  the  household.  He  calls  all  the  family  by 
their  Christian  names ;  tells  long  stories  about  how  he  dan- 
dled them  on  his  knee  when  they  were  children ;  and  is  a 
complete  Cockloft  chronicle  for  the  last  seventy  years.  The 
family  carriage  was  made  in  the  last  French  war,  and  the 
old  horses  were  most  indubitably  foaled  in  Noah's  Ark',  re< 
sembling  marvelously,  in  gravity  of  demeanor,  those  sober 
animals  which  may  be  seen  any  day  of  the  year  in  the  streets 
of  Philadelphia,  walking  their  snail's  pace,  a  dozen  hi  a  row, 
and  harmoniously  jingling  their  bells.  Whim-whams  are 
the  inheritance  of  the  Cocklofts,  and  every  member  of  the 
household  is  a  humorist  sui  generis,  from  the  master  down 
to  the  footman.  The  very  cats  and  dogs  are  humorists ;  and 
we  have  a  little,  runty  scoundrel  of  a  cur,  who,  whenever 
the  church-bells  ring,  will  run  to  the  street-door,  turn  up  his 
nose  in  the  wind,  and  howl  most  piteously.  Jeremy  insists 
that  this  is  owing  to  a  peculiar  delicacy  in  the  organization 
of  his  ears,  and  supports  his  position  by  many  learned  argu- 
ments which  nobody  can  understand ;  but  I  am  of  opinion 
that  it  is  a  mere  Cockloft  whim-wham,  which  the  little  cur 
indulges,  being  descended  from  a  race  of  dogs  which  has 
flourished  in  the  family  ever  since  the  time  of  my  grand- 
father. A  propensity  to  save  everything  that  bears  the 
stamp  of  family  antiquity  has  accumulated  an  abundance 
of  trumpery  and  rubbish  with  which  the  house  is  encum- 
bered from  the  cellar  to  the  garret;  and  every  room,  and 
closet,  and  corner  is  crammed  with  three-legged  chairs,  clocks 
without  hands,  swords  without  scabbards,  cocked  hats,  broken 
candlesticks,  and  looking-glasses  with  frames  carved  into  fan- 


82  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ir?<ftoi? 

tastic  shapes  of  feathered  sheep,  woolly  birds,  and  other  ani- 
mals that  have  no  name  except  in  books  of  heraldry.  The 
ponderous  mahogany  chairs  in  the  parlor  are  of  such  un- 
wieldy proportions  that  it  is  quite  a  serious  undertaking  to 
gallant  one  of  them  across  the  room;  and  sometimes  make 
a  most  equivocal  noise  when  you  sit  down  in  a  hurry;  the 
mantel-piece  is  decorated  with  little  lackered  earthen  shep- 
herdesses, some  of  which  are  without  toes  and  others  with- 
out noses;  and  the  fireplace  is  garnished  out  with  Dutch 
tiles,  exhibiting  a  great  variety  of  Scripture  pieces,  which  my 
good  old  soul  of  a  cousin  takes  infinite  delight  hi  explaining. 
Poor  Jeremy  hates  them  as  he  does  poison ;  for  while  a  yon- 
ker  he  was  obliged  by  his  mother  to  learn  the  history  of  a 
tile  every  Sunday  morning  before  she  would  permit  him  to 
join  his  playmates;  this  was  a  terrible  affair  for  Jeremy, 
who,  by  the  time  he  had  learned  the  last  had  forgotten  the 
first,  and  was  obliged  to  begin  again.  He  assured  me  the 
other  day,  with  a  round  college  oath,  that  if  the  old  house 
stood  out  till  he  inherited  it,  he  would  have  these  tiles  taken 
out  and  ground  into  powder,  for  the  perfect  hatred  he  bore 
them. 

My  Cousin  Christopher  enjoys  unlimited  authority  in  the 
mansion  of  his  forefathers ;  he  is  truly  what  may  be  termed 
a  hearty  old  blade,  has  a  florid,  sunshiny  countenance ;  and 
if  you  will  only  praise  his  wine,  and  laugh  at  his  long  stories, 
himself  and  his  house  are  heartily  at  your  service.  The  first 
condition  is  indeed  easily  complied  with,  for,  to  tell  the  truth, 
his  wine  is  excellent;  but  his  stories,  being  not  of  the  best, 
and  often  repeated,  are  apt  to  create  a  disposition  to  yawn ; 
being,  in  addition  to  their  other  qualities,  most  unreasonably 
long.  His  prolixity  is  the  more  afflicting  to  me,  since  I  have 
all  his  stories  by  heart ;  and  when  he  enters  upon  one,  it  re- 
minds me  of  Newark  causeway,  where  the  traveler  sees  the 
end  at  the  distance  of  several  miles.  To  the  great  misfort- 
une of  all  his  acquaintance,  Cousin  Cockloft  is  blessed  with 
a  most  provoking  retentive  memory ;  and  can  give  day  and 
date,  and  name  and  age  and  circumstance,  with  the  most 


Salma$ui?df  83 

unfeeling  precision.  These,  however,  are  but  trivial  foibles, 
forgotten  or  remembered  only  with  a  kind  of  tender,  respect- 
ful pity  by  those  who  know  with  what  a  rich  redundant 
harvest  of  kindness  and  generosity  his  heart  is  stored.  It 
would  delight  you  to  see  with  what  social  gladness  he  wel- 
comes a  visitor  into  his  house;  and  the  poorest  man  that  en- 
ters his  door  never  leaves  it  without  a  cordial  invitation  to 
sit  down  and  drink  a  glass  of  wine.  By  the  honest  farmers 
round  his  country-seat  he  is  looked  up  to  with  love  and  rev- 
erence ;  they  never  pass  him  by  without  his  inquiring  after 
the  welfare  of  their  families,  and  receiving  a  cordial  shake 
of  his  liberal  hand.  There  are  but  two  classes  of  people  who 
are  thrown  out  of  the  reach  of  his  hospitality,  and  these  are 
Frenchmen  and  Democrats.  The  old  gentleman  considers  it 
treason  against  the  majesty  of  good  breeding  to  speak  to  any 
vipitor  with  his  hat  on ;  but  the  moment  a  Democrat  enters 
his  door  he  forthwith  bids  his  man  Pompey  bring  his  hat, 
puts  it  on  his  head,  and  salutes  him  with  an  appalling  "Well, 
sir,  what  do  you  want  with  me?" 

He  has  a  profound  contempt  for  Frenchmen,  and  firmly 
believes  that  they  eat  nothing  but  frogs  and  soup-maigre  hi 
their  own  country.  This  unlucky  prejudice  is  partly  owing 
to  my  greataunt,  Pamela,  having  been  many  years  ago  run 
away  with  by  a  French  count,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  son 
of  a  generation  of  barbers;  and  partly  to  a  little  vivid  spark 
of  Toryism,  which  burns  in  a  secret  corner  of  his  heart.  He 
was  a  loyal  subject  of  the  crown,  has  hardly  yet  recovered 
the  shock  of  independence ;  and,  though  he  does  not  care  to 
own  it,  always  does  honor  to  his  majesty's  birthday  by  invit- 
ing a  few  cavaliers  like  himself  to  dinner,  and  gracing  his 
table  with  more  than  ordinary  festivity.  If  by  chance  the 
revolution  is  mentioned  before  him  my  cousin  shakes  his 
head;  and  you  may  see,  if  you  take  good  note,  a  lurking 
smile  of  contempt  in  the  corner  of  his  eye,  which  marks  a 
decided  disapprobation  of  the  sound.  He  once,  in  the  full- 
ness of  his  heart,  observed  to  me  that  green  peas  were  a 
month  later  than  they  were  under  the  old  government.  But 


84  U/orKs  of  U7asl?ii)$toi) 

the  most  eccentric  manifestation  of  loyalty  he  ever  gave  was 
making  a  voyage  to  Halifax  for  no  other  reason  under  heaven 
but  to  hear  his  majesty  prayed  for  in  church,  as  he  used  to  be 
here  formerly.  This  he  never  could  be  brought  fairly  to  ac- 
knowledge; but  it  is  a  certain  fact,  I  assure  you.  It  is  not 
a  little  singular  that  a  person,  so  much  given  to  long  story- 
telling as  my  cousin,  should  take  a  liking  to  another  of  the 
same  character;  but  so  it  is  with  the  old  gentleman.  His 
prime  favorite  and  companion  is  Will  Wizard,  who  is  almost 
a  member  of  the  family;  and  will  sit  before  the  fire,  with  his 
feet  on  the  massy  andirons,  and  smoke  his  cigar,  and  screw 
his  phiz,  and  spin  away  tremendous  long  stories  of  his  trav- 
els, for  a  whole  evening,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  old  gen- 
tleman and  lady ;  and  especially  of  the  young  ladies,  who, 
like  Desdemona,  do  "seriously  incline,"  and  listen  to  him 
with  innumerable  "Oh  dears,"  "Is  it  possibles,"  "Goody 
graciouses,"  and  look  upon  him  as  a  second  Sindbad  the 
sailor. 

The  Misses  Cockloft,  whose  pardon  I  crave  for  not  having 
particularly  introduced  them  before,  are  a  pair  of  delectable 
damsels ;  who,  having  purloined  and  locked  up  the  family 
Bible,  pass  for  just  what  age  they  please  to  be  guilty  to. 
Barbara,  the  eldest,  has  long  since  resigned  the  character  of 
a  belle,  and  adopted  that  staid,  sober,  demure,  snuff-taking 
air  becoming  her  years  and  discretion.  She  is  a  good-nat- 
ured soul,  whom  I  never  saw  in  a  passion  but  once;  and 
that  was  occasioned  by  seeing  an  old  favorite  beau  of  hers 
kiss  the  hand  of  a  pretty  blooming  girl;  and,  in  truth,  she 
only  got  angry  because,  as  she  very  properly  said,  it  was 
spoiling  the  child.  Her  sister  Margery,  or  Maggie,  as  she  is 
familiarly  termed,  seemed  disposed  to  maintain  her  post  as 
a  belle  until  a  few  months  since ;  when  accidentally  hearing  a 
gentleman  observe  that  she  broke  very  fast,  she  suddenly  left 
off  going  to  the  assembly,  took  a  cat  into  high  favor,  and 
began  to  rail  at  the  forward  pertness  of  young  misses.  From 
that  moment  I  set  her  down  for  an  old  maid ;  and  so  she  is, 
"by  the  hand  of  my  body."  The  young  -ladies  are  still 


Salma^updi  85 

visited  by  some  half  dozen  of  veteran  beaux,  who  grew  and 
flourished  in  the  haut  ton  when  the  Misses  Cockloft  were 
quite  children ;  but  have  been  brushed  rather  rudely  by  the 
hand  of  time,  who,  to  say  the  truth,  can  do  almost  anything 
but  make  people  young.  They  are,  notwithstanding,  still 
warm  candidates  for  female  favor;  look  venerably  tender, 
and  repeat  over  and  over  the  same  honeyed  speeches  and 
sugared  sentiments  to  the  little  belles  that  they  poured  so 
profusely  into  the  ears  of  their  mothers.  I  beg  leave  here  to 
give  notice  that  by  this  sketch  I  mean  no  reflection  on  old 
bachelors ;  on  the  contrary  I  hold,  that  next  to  a  fine  lady, 
the  ne  plus  ultra,  an  old  bachelor  to  be  the  most  charming 
being  upon  earth;  inasmuch  as  by  living  in  "single  blessed- 
ness" he  of  course  does  just  as  he  pleases;  and  if  he  has  any 
genius  must  acquire  a  plentiful  stock  of  whims,  and  oddities, 
and  whalebone  habits ;  without  which  I  esteem  a  man  to  be 
mere  beef  without  mustard,  good  for  nothing  at  all  but  to 
run  on  errands  for  ladies,  take  boxes  at  the  theater,  and  act 
the  part  of  a  screen  at  tea-parties  or  a  walking-stick  in  the 
streets.  I  merely  speak  of  these  old  boys  who  infest  public 
walks,  pounce  upon  ladies  from  every  corner  of  the  street, 
and  worry  and  frisk  and  amble,  and  caper  before,  behind, 
and  round  about  the  fashionable  belles,  like  old  ponies  in  a 
pasture,  striving  to  supply  the  absence  of  youthful  whim  and 
hilarity  by  grimaces  and  grins  and  artificial  vivacity.  I 
have  sometimes  seen  one  of  these  "reverend  youths"  en- 
deavoring to  elevate  his  wintry  passions  into  something  like 
love  by  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  beauty ;  and  it  did  remind 
me  of  an  old  moth  attempting  to  fly  through  a  pane  of  glass 
toward  a  light,  without  ever  approaching  near  enough  to 
warm  itself  or  scorch  its  wings. 

Never,  I  firmly  believe,  did  there  exist  a  family  that  went 
more  by  tangents  than  the  Cocklofts.  Everything  is  gov- 
erned by  whim ;  and  if  one  member  starts  a  new  freak,  away 
9,11  the  rest  follow  on  like  wild  geese  in  a  string.  As  the 
family,  the  servants,  the  horses,  cats,  and  dogs,  have  all 
grown  old  together,  they  have  accommodated  themselves  to 


86  U/orKs  of  U/asl?io$toi)  Irufr?$ 

each  other's  habits  completely;  and  though  every  body  of 
them  is  full  of  odd  points,  angles,  rhomboids,  and  ins  and 
outs,  yet,  somehow  or  other,  they  harmonize  together  like  so 
many  straight  lines ;  and  it  is  truly  a  grateful  and  refreshing 
sight  to  see  them  agree  so  well.  Should  one,  however,  get 
out  of  tune,  it  is  like  a  cracked  fiddle :  the  whole  concert  is 
ajar;  you  perceive  a  cloud  over  every  brow  in  the  house,  and 
even  the  old  chairs  seem  to  creak  affetuosso.  If  my  cousin, 
as  he  is  rather  apt  to  do,  betray  any  symptoms  of  vexation 
or  uneasiness,  no  matter  about  what,  he  is  worried  to  death 
with  inquiries,  which  answer  no  other  end  but  to  demonstrate 
the  good- will  of  the  inquirer  and  put  him  in  a  passion ;  for 
everybody  knows  how  provoking  it  is  to  be  cut  short  in  a  fit 
of  the  blues  by  an  impertinent  question  about  "what  is  the 
matter?"  when  a  man  can't  tell  himself.  I  remember  a  few 
months  ago  the  old  gentleman  came  home  in  quite  a  squall ; 
kicked  poor  Caesar,  the  mastiff,  out  of  his  way,  as  he  came 
through  the  hall;  threw  his  hat  on  the  table  with  most  vio- 
lent emphasis,  and  pulling  out  his  box  took  three  huge  pinches 
of  snuff,  and  threw  a  fourth  into  the  cat's  eyes  as  he  sat 
purring  his  astonishment  by  the  fireside.  This  was  enough 
to  set  the  body  politic  going;  Mrs.  Cockloft  began  "my 
dealing"  it  as  fast  as  tongue  could  move;  the  young  ladies 
took  each  a  stand  at  an  elbow  of  his  chair ;  Jeremy  marshaled 
in  rear;  the  servants  came  tumbling  in;  the  mastiff  put  up 
an  inquiring  nose ;  and  even  grimalkin,  after  he  had  cleaned 
his  whiskers  and  finished  sneezing,  discovered  indubitable 
signs  of  sympathy.  After  the  most  affectionate  inquiries  on 
all  sides,  it  turned  out  that  my  cousin,  in  crossing  the  street, 
had  got  his  silk  stockings  bespattered  with  mud  by  a  coach, 
which  it  seems  belonged  to  a  dashing  gentleman  who  had 
formerly  supplied  the  family  with  hot  rolls  and  muffins! 
Mrs.  Cockloft  thereupon  turned  up  her  eyes  and  the  young 
ladies  their  noses ;  and  it  would  have  edified  a  whole  congre- 
gation to  hear  the  conversation  which  took  place  concerning 
the  insolence  of  upstarts,  and  the  vulgarity  of  would-be  gen- 
tlemen and  ladies  who  strive  to  emerge  from  low  life  by 


87 


dashing  about  in  carriages  to  pay  a  visit  two  doors  off;  giving 
parties  to  people  who  laugh  at  them,  and  cutting  all  their  old 
friends. 


THEATRICS 

BY    WILLIAM    WIZAKD,   ESQ. 

I  WENT  a  few  evenings  since  to  the  theater,  accompanied 
by  my  friend  Snivers,  the  cockney,  who  is  a  man  deeply  read 
in  the  history  of  Cinderella,  Valentine  and  Orson,  Blue  Beard, 
and  all  those  recondite  works  so  necessary  to  enable  a  man 
to  understand  the  modern  drama.  Snivers  is  one  of  those 
intolerable  fellows  who  will  never  be  pleased  with  anything 
until  he  has  turned  and  twisted  it  divers  ways,  to  see  if  it 
corresponds  with  his  notions  of  congruity ;  and  as  he  is  none 
of  the  quickest  in  his  ratiocinations,  he  will  sometimes  come 
out  with  his  approbation  when  everybody  else  has  forgotten 
the  cause  which  excited  it.  Snivers  is,  moreover,  a  great 
critic,  for  he  finds  fault  with  everything  ;  this  being  what  I 
understand  by  modern  criticism.  He,  however,  is  pleased  to 
acknowledge  that  our  theater  is  not  so  despicable,  all  things 
considered ;  and  really  thinks  Cooper  one  of  our  best  actors. 
The  play  was  "Othello,"  and,  to  speak  my  mind  freely,  I 
think  I  have  seen  it  performed  much  worse  in  my  time.  The 
actors,  I  firmly  believe,  did  their  best;  and  whenever  this  is 
the  case  no  man  has  a  right  to  find  fault  with  them,  in  my 
opinion.  Little  Rutherford,  the  Roscius  of  the  Philadelphia 
theater,  looked  as  big  as  possible;  and  what  he  wanted  in 
size  he  made  up  in  frowning.  1  like  frowning  hi  tragedy; 
and  if  a  man  but  keeps  his  forehead  in  proper  wrinkle,  talks 
big,  and  takes  long  strides  on  the  stage,  I  always  set  him 
down  as  a  great  tragedian ;  and  so  does  my  friend  Snivers. 

Before  the  first  act  was  over,  Snivers  began  to  flourish 
his  critical  wooden  sword  like  a  harlequin.  He  first  found 
fault  with  Cooper  for  not  having  made  himself  as  black  as 
a  negro;  "for,"  said  he,  "that  Othello  was  an  arrant  black 


of 

appears  from  several  expressions  of  the  play ;  as,  for  instance, 
'thick  lips,'  'sooty  bosom,'  and  a  variety  of  others.  I  am 
inclined  to  think,"  continued  he,  "that  Othello  was  an 
Egyptian  by  birth,  from  the  circumstance  of  the  handkerchief 
given  to  his  mother  by  a  native  of  that  country ;  and,  if  so, 
he  certainly  was  as  black  as  my  hat :  for  Herodotus  has  told 
us  that  the  Egyptians  had  flat  noses  and  frizzled  hair;  a  clear 
proof  that  they  were  all  negroes."  He  did  not  confine  his 
strictures  to  this  single  error  of  the  actor,  but  went  on  to  run 
him  down  in  toto.  In  this  he  was  seconded  by  a  red  hot 
Philadelphian,  who  proved,  by  a  string  of  most  eloquent 
logical  puns,  that  Fennel  was  unquestionably  in  every  respect 
a  better  actor  than  Cooper.  I  knew  it  was  vain  to  contend 
with  them,  since  I  recollected  a  most  obstinate  trial  of  skill 
these  two  great  Roscii  had  last  spring  in  Philadelphia. 
Cooper  brandished  his  blood-stained  dagger  at  the  theater — 
Fennel  flourished  his  snuff-box  and  shook  his  wig  at  the 
Lyceum,  and  the  unfortunate  Philadelphians  were  a  long 
time  at  a  loss  to  decide  which  deserved  the  palm.  The 
literati  were  inclined  to  give  it  to  Cooper,  because  his  name 
was  the  most  fruitful  in  puns ;  but  then,  on  the  other  side, 
it  was  contended  that  Fennel  was  the  best  Greek  scholar. 
Scarcely  was  the  town  of  Strasburgh  hi  a  greater  hubbub 
about  the  courteous  stranger's  nose ;  and  it  was  well  that  the 
doctors  of  the  university  did  not  get  into  the  dispute,  else  it 
might  have  become  a  battle  of  folios.  At  length,  after  much 
excellent  argument  had  been  expended  on  both  sides,  recourse 
was  had  to  Cocker's  arithmetic  and  a  carpenter's  rule ;  the 
rival  candidates  were  both  measured  by  one  of  their  most 
steady-handed  critics,  and  by  the  most  exact  measurement  it 
was  proved  that  Mr.  Fennel  was  the  greater  actor  by  three 
inches  and  a  quarter.  Since  this  demonstration  of  his  in- 
feriority, Cooper  has  never  been  able  to  hold  up  his  head  in 
Philadelphia. 

In  order  to  change  a  conversation  in  which  my  favorite 
Buffered  so  much,  1  made  some  inquiries  of  the  Philadelphian 
concerning  the  two  heroes  of  his  theater,  Wood  and  Cain; 


89 

but  I  had  scarcely  mentioned  their  names  when,  whack!  he 
threw  a  whole  handful  of  puns  in  my  face ;  'twas  like  a  bowl 
of  cold  water.  I  turned  on  my  heel,  had  recourse  to  my 
tobacco-box,  and  said  no  more  about  Wood  and  Cam;  nor 
will  I  ever  more,  if  I  can  help  it,  mention  their  names  in  the 
presence  of  a  Philadelphian.  Would  that  they  could  leave 
off  punning!  for  I  love  every  soul  of  them,  with  a  cordial 
affection,  warm  as  their  own  generous  hearts  and  boundless 
as  their  hospitality. 

During  the  performance  I  kept  an  eye  on  the  countenance 
of  my  friend  the  cockney;  because  having  come  all  the  way 
from  England,  and  having  seen  Kemble  once,  on  a  visit 
which  he  made  from  the  button  manufactory  to  Lunnun,  I 
thought  his  phiz  might  serve  as  a  kind  of  thermometer  to 
direct  my  manifestations  of  applause  or  disapprobation.  I 
might  as  well  have  looked  at  the  back-side  of  nis  head;  for  I 
could  not,  with  all  my  peering,  perceive  by  his  features  that 
he  was  pleased  with  anything — except  himself.  His  hat  was 
twitched  a  little  on  one  side,  as  much  as  to  say,  "demme, 
I'm  your  sorts!"  He  was  sucking  the  end  of  a  little  sticks 
he  was  "gemman"  from  head  to  foot;  but  as  to  his  face, 
there  was  no  more  expression  in  it  than  in  the  face  of  a 
Chinese  lady  on  a  teacup.  On  Cooper's  giving  one  of  nis 
gunpowder  explosions  of  passion,  I  exclaimed,  "fine,  very 
finel"  "Pardon  me,"  said  my  friend  Snivers,  "this  is  dam- 
nable!— the  gesture,  my  dear  sir,  only  look  at  the  gesture! 
how  horrible !  Do  you  not  observe  that  the  actor  slaps  his 
forehead,  whereas,  the  passion  not  having  arrived  at  the 
proper  height,  he  should  only  have  slapped  his— pocket-flap? 
— this  figure  of  rhetoric  is  a  most  important  stage  trick,  and 
the  proper  management  of  it  is  what  peculiarly  distinguishes 
the  great  actor  from  the  mere  plodding  mechanical  buffoon. 
Different  degrees  of  passion  require  different  slaps,  which  we 
critics  have  reduced  to  a  perfect  manual,  improving  upon  the 
principal  adopted  by  Frederick  of  Prussia,  by  deciding  that 
an  actor,  like  &,  soldier,  is  a  mere  machine;  as  thus — the 
actor,  for  a  minor  burst  of  passion,  merely  slaps  his  pocket- 


90  U/orl{8  of 


hole;  good!  —  for  a  major  burst,  he  slaps  his  breast;  very 
good!  —  but  for  a  burst  maximus,  he  whacks  away  at  hia 
forehead  like  a  brave  fellow  ;  this  is  excellent  !  —  nothing  can 
be  finer  than  an  exit  slapping  the  forehead  from  one  end  of 
the  stage  to  the  other."  ''Except,5'  replied  I,  "one  of  those 
slaps  on  the  breast  which  I  have  sometimes  admired  in  some 
of  our  fat  heroes  and  heroines,  which  make  their  whole  body 
shake  and  quiver  like  a  pyramid  of  jelly.'* 

The  Philadelphian  had  listened  to  this  conversation  with 
profound  attention,  and  appeared  delighted  with  Snivers* 
mechanical  strictures  ',  'twas  natural  enough  in  a  man  who 
chose  an  actor  as  he  would  a  grenadier.  He  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  a  pause  to  enter  into  a  long  conversation  with  my 
friend  ;  and  was  receiving  a  prodigious  fund  of  information 
concerning  the  true  mode  of  emphasizing  conjunctions,  shift- 
ing scenes,  snuffing  candles,  and  making  thunder  and  light- 
ning, better  than  you  can  get  every  day  from  the  sky,  as 
practiced  at  the  royal  theaters;  when,  as  ill  luck  would  have 
it,  they  happened  to  run  their  heads  full  butt  against  a  new 
reading.  Now  this  was  "a  stumper,"  as  our  old  friend 
Paddle  would  say  ;  for  the  Philadelphians  are  as  inveterate 
new-  reading  hunters  as  the  cockneys,  and,  for  aught  I  know, 
as  well  skilled  in  finding  them  out.  The  Philadelphian  there- 
upon met  the  cockney  on  his  own  ground;  and  at  it  they 
went  like  two  inveterate  curs  at  a  bone.  Snivers  quoted 
Theobald,  Hanmer,  and  a  host  of  learned  commentators,  who 
have  pinned  themselves  on  the  sleeve  of  Shakespeare's  im 
mortality,  and  made  the  old  bard,  like  General  Washington, 
in  General  Washington's  life,  a  most  diminutive  figure  in  his 
own  book;  his  opponent  chose  Johnson  for  his  bottle-holder, 
and  thundered  him  forward  like  an  elephant  to  bear  down 
the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  I  was  not  long  in  discovering  that 
these  two  precious  judges  had  got  hold  ot  that  unlucky  pas- 
sage of  Shakespeare  which,  like  a  straw,  has  tickled,  and 
puzzled,  and  confounded  many  a  somniferous  buzzard  of 
past  and  present  time.  It  was  the  celebrated  wish  of  Desde- 
mona  that  heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man  as  Othello.— 


91 

Snlvers  insisted  that  "the  gentle  Desdemonda"  merely 
wished  for  such  a  man  for  a  husband,  which  in  all  conscience 
was  a  modest  wish  enough,  and  very  natural  in  a  young 
lady  who  might  possibly  have  had  a  predilection  for  flat 
noses;  like  a  certain  philosophical  great  man  of  our  day. 
The  Philadelphian  contended  with  all  the  vehemence  of  a 
member  of  Congress,  moving  the  house  to  have  "whereas,** 
or  "also,"  or  "nevertheless,"  struck  out  of  a  bill,  that  the 
young  lady  wished  Heaven  had  made  her  a  man  instead  of  a 
woman,  in  order  that  she  might  have  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing the  "anthropophagi,  and  the  men  whose  heads  do  grow 
beneath  their  shoulders";  which  was  a  very  natural  wish, 
considering  the  curiosity  of  the  sex.  On  being  referred  to,  I 
incontinently  decided  in  favor  of  the  honorable  member  who 
spoke  last;  inasmuch  as  I  think  it  was  a  very  foolish,  and 
therefore  very  natural,  wish  for  a  young  lady  to  make  before 
a  man  she  wished  to  marry.  It  was,  moreover,  an  indica- 
tion of  the  violent  inclination  she  felt  to  wear  the  breeches, 
which  was  afterward,  in  all  probability,  gratified,  if  we  may 
judge  from  the  title  of  "our  captain's  captain,"  given  her  by 
Cassio,  a  phrase  which,  in  my  opinion,  indicates  that  Othello 
was,  at  that  time,  most  ignominiously  henpecked.  I  believe 
my  arguments  staggered  Snivers  himself,  for  he  looked  con- 
foundedly queer,  and  said  not  another  word  on  the  subject. 
A  little  while  after  at  it  he  went  again  on  another  tack, 
and  began  to  find  fault  with  Cooper's  manner  of  dying,  "It 
was  not  natural,"  he  said,  for  it  had  lately  been  demonstrated 
by  a  learned  doctor  of  physic  that  when  a  man  is  mortally 
stabbed  he  ought  to  take  a  flying  leap  of  at  least  five  feet 
and  drop  down  "dead  as  a  salmon  in  a  fishmonger's  basket." 
— Whenever  a  man,  in  the  predicament  above  mentioned, 
departed  from  this  fundamental  rule  by  falling  flat  down, 
Kke  a  log,  and  rolling  about  for  two  or  three  minutes,  making 
speeches  all  the  time,  the  said  learned  doctor  maintained  that 
it  was  owing  to  the  waywardness  of  the  human  mind,  which 
delighted  in  flying  in  the  face  of  nature  ana  dying  in  defiance 
of  all  her  established  rules.— I  replied,  for  my  part  I  held 


92  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii}<$toi) 

that  every  man  had  a  right  of  dying  in  whatever  position  he 
pleased,  and  that  the  mode  of  doing  it  depended  altogether 
on  the  peculiar  character  of  the  person  going  to  die.  A 
Persian  could  not  die  in  peace  unless  he  had  his  face  turned 
to  the  east;  a  Mahometan  would  always  choose  to  have  his 
toward  Mecca;  a  Frenchman  might  prefer  this  mode  of 
throwing  a  somerset,  but  Mynheer  Van  Brumblebottom,  the 
Roscius  of  Rotterdam,  always  chose  to  thunder  down  on  his 
seat  of  honor  whenever  he  received  a  mortal  wound.  Being 
a  man  of  ponderous  dimensions,  this  had  a  most  electrifying 
effect,  for  the  whole  theater  "shook  like  Olympus  at  the  nod 
of  Jove."  The  Philadelphian  was  immediately  inspired  with 
a  pun,  and  swore  that  Mynheer  must  be  great  in  a  dying 
scene,  since  he  knew  how  to  make  the  most  of  his  latter  end. 
It  is  the  inveterate  cry  of  stage  critics  that  an  actor  does 
not  perform  the  character  naturally,  if,  by  chance,  he  hap- 
pens not  to  die  exactly  as  they  would  have  him.  I  think  the 
exhibition  of  a  play  at  Pekin  would  suit  them  exactly;  and 
I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  they  would  go  there  and  see  one : 
nature  is  there  imitated  with  the  most  scrupulous  exactness 
in  every  trifling  particular.  Here  an  unhappy  lady  or  gen- 
tleman, who  happens  unluckily  to  be  poisoned  or  stabbed,  is 
left  on  the  stage  to  writhe  and  groan,  and  make  faces  at  the 
audience  until  the  poet  pleases  they  should  die;  while  the 
honest  folks  of  the  dramatis  personce,  bless  their  hearts!  all 
crowd  round  and  yield  most  potent  assistance  by  crying  and 
lamenting  most  vociferously!  the  audience,  tender  souls,  pull 
out  their  white  pocket-handkerchiefs,  wipe  their  eyes,  blow 
their  noses,  and  swear  it  is  natural  as  life,  while  the  poor 
actor  is  left  to  die  without  common  Christian  comfort.  In 
China,  on  the  contrary,  the  first  thing  they  do  is  to  run  for 
the  doctor  and  tchoouc,  or  notary.  The  audience  are  enter- 
tained throughout  the  fifth  act  with  a  learned  consultation  of 
physicians,  and  if  the  patient  must  die,  he  does  it  secundum 
artem,  and  always  is  allowed  time  to  make  his  will.  The 
celebrated  Chow-Chow  was  the  completest  hand  I  ever  saw 
at  killing  himself ;  he  always  carried  under  his  robe  a  bladder 


93 

of  bull's  blood,  which,  when  he  gave  the  mortal  stab,  spurted 
out,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  the  audience.  Not  that  the 
ladies  of  China  are  more  fond  of  the  sight  of  blood  than  those 
of  our  own  country ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are  remarkably  sen* 
sitive  in  this  particular;  and  we  are  told  by  the  great  Linkum 
Fidelius  that  the  beautiful  Ninny  Consequa,  one  of  the  ladies 
of  the  emperor's  seraglio,  once  fainted  away  on  seeing  a 
favorite  slave's  nose  bleed :  since  which  time  refinement  has 
been  carried  to  such  a  pitch  that  a  buskined  hero  is  not 
allowed  to  run  himself  through  the  body  in  the  face  of  the 
audience.  The  immortal  Chow-Chow,  in  conformity  to  this 
absurd  prejudice,  whenever  he  plays  the  part  of  Othello, 
which  is  reckoned  his  masterpiece,  always  keeps  a  bold 
front,  stabs  himself  slyly  behind,  and  is  dead  before  anybody 
suspects  that  he  has  given  the  mortal  blow. 

P.  S. — Just  as  this  was  going  to  press,  I  was  informed  by 
Evergreen  that  "Othello"  had  not  been  performed  here  the 
Lord  knows  when;  no  matter,  I  am  not  the  first  that  has 
criticised  a  play  without  seeing  it,  and  this  critique  will  answer 
for  the  last  performance,  if  that  was  a  dozen  years  ago. 


No.  VII.— SATURDAY,    APRIL  4,    1807 

LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KELI 

KHAN, 

TO     ASBM      HACCHEM,     PRINCIPAL,     SLAVE-DRIVER     TO     HIS 
HIGHNESS    THE    BASHAW    OP    TRIPOLI 

I  PROMISED  in  a  former  letter,  good  Asem,  that  I  would 
furnish  thee  with  a  few  hints  respecting  the  nature  of  the 
government  by  which  I  am  held  in  durance. — Though  my 
inquires  for  that  purpose  have  been  industrious,  yet  1  am  not 
perfectly  satisfied  with  their  results ;  for  thou  mayest  easily 
imagine  that  the  vision  of  a  captive  is  overshadowed  by  *;ne 


of 

mists  of  illusion  and  prejudice,  and  the  horizon  of  his  specula- 
tions must  be  limited  indeed.  I  find  that  the  people  of  this 
country  are  strangely  at  a  loss  to  determine  the  nature  and 
proper  character  of  their  government.  Even  their  dervises 
are  extremely  in  the  dark  as  to  this  particular,  and  are  con- 
tinually indulging  in  the  most  preposterous  disquisitions  on 
the  subjecf :  some  have  insisted  that  it  savors  of  an  aristoc- 
racy; others  maintain  that  it  is  a  pure  democracy;  and  a 
third  set  of  theorists  declare  absolutely  that  it  is  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  mobocracy.  The  latter,  I  must  confess, 
though  still  wide  in  error,  have  come  Dearest  to  the  truth. 
You  of  course  must  understand  the  meaning  of  these  dif- 
ferent words  as  they  are  derived  from  the  ancient  Greek 
language,  and  bespeak  loudly  the  verbal  poverty  of  these 
poor  infidels,  who  cannot  utter  a  learned  phrase  without  lay- 
ing the  dead  languages  under  contribution.  A  man,  my 
dear  Asem,  who  talks  good  sense  in  his  native  tongue  is  held 
in  tolerable  estimation  in  this  country;  but  a  fool  who  clothes 
his  feeble  ideas  in  a  foreign  or  antique  garb  is  bowed  down 
to  as  a  literary  prodigy.  While  1  conversed  with  these 
people  in  plain  English  I  was  but  little  attended  to;  but  the 
moment  I  prosed  away  in  Greek  every  one  looked  up  to 
me  with  veneration  as  an  oracle. 

Although  the  dervises  differ  widely  in  the  particulars 
above  mentioned,  yet  they  all  agree  in  terming  their  govern- 
ment one  of  the  most  pacific  in  the  known  world.  1  cannot 
help  pitying  their  ignorance,  and  smiling,  at  times,  to  see 
into  what  ridiculous  errors  those  nations  will  wander  who 
are  unenlightened  by  the  precepts  of  Mahomet,  our  divine 
prophet,  and  uninstructed  by  the  five  hundred  and  forty-nine 
books  of  wisdom  of  the  immortal  Ibrahim  Hassan  al  Fusti 
To  call  this  nation  pacific!  most  preposterous!  It  reminds 
me  of  the  title  assumed  by  the  sheik  of  that  murderous  tribe 
of  wild  Arabs  that  desolate  the  valleys  of  Belsaden,  who 
styles  himself  "star  of  courtesy — beam  of  the  mercy-Beat!" 

The  simple  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  these  people  are 
totally  ignorant  of  their  own  true  character;  for,  according 


Salma$ur?dl  95 

to  the  best  of  my  observation,  they  are  the  most  warlike, 
and,  I  must  say,  the  most  savage  nation  that  I  have  as  yet 
discovered  among  all  the  barbarians.  They  are  not  only  at 
war,  in  their  own  way,  with  almost  every  nation  on  earth, 
but  they  are  at  the  same  time  engaged  in  the  most  compli- 
cated knot  of  civil  wars  that  ever  infested  any  poor  unhappy- 
country  on  which  Allah  has  denounced  his  malediction ! 

To  let  thee  at  once  into  a  secret,  which  is  unknown  to 
these  people  themselves,  their  government  is  a  pure  unadul- 
terated "logocracy,"  or  government  of  words.  The  whole 
nation  does  everything  viva  voce,  or  by  word  of  mouth ;  and 
in  this  manner  is  one  of  the  most  military  nations  in  exist- 
ence. Every  man  who  has  what  is  here  called  the  gift  of  the 
gab,  that  is,  a  plentiful  stock  of  verbosity,  becomes  a  soldier 
outright ;  and  is  forever  in  a  militant  state.  The  country  is 
entirely  defended  vi  et  lingua;  that  is  to  say,  by  force  of 
tongues.  The  account  which  I  lately  wrote  to  our  friend, 
the  snorer,  respecting  the  immense  army  of  six  hundred  men, 
makes  nothing  against  this  observation;  that  formidable 
body  being  kept  up,  as  I  have  already  observed,  only  to 
amuse  their  fair  countrywomen  by  their  splendid  appear- 
ance and  nodding  plumes;  and  are,  by  way  of  distinction, 
denominated  the  "defenders  of  the  fair." 

In  a  logocracy  thou  well  knowest  there  is  little  or  no 
occasion  for  firearms,  or  any  such  destructive  weapons. 
Every  offensive  or  defensive  measure  is  enforced  by  wordy 
battle  and  paper  war;  he  who  has  the  longest  tongue  or 
readiest  quill  is  sure  to  gain  the  victory — will  carry  horror, 
abuse,  and  ink-shed  into  the  very  trenches  of  the  enemy ;  'and, 
without  mercy  or  remorse,  put  men,  women  and  children  to 
the  point  of  the — pen ! 

There  is  still  preserved  in  this  country  some  remains  of 
that  Gothic  spirit  of  knight-errantry  which  so  much  annoyed 
the  faithful  in  the  middle  ages  of  the  Hegira.  As,  notwith- 
standing their  martial  disposition,  they  are  a  people  much 
grren  to  commerce  and  agriculture,  and  must,  necessarily, 
at  certain  seasons  be  engaged  in  these  employments,  they 


96  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ir)<$tor) 

have  accommodated  themselves  by  appointing  knights,  or 
constant  warriors,  incessant  brawlers,  similar  to  those  who 
in  former  ages  swore  eternal  enmity  to  the  followers  of  our 
divine  prophet. — These  knights,  denominated  editors  or 
"slang-whangers,"  are  appointed  in  every  town,  village, 
and  district  to  carry  on  both  foreign  and  internal  warfare, 
and  may  be  said  to  keep  up  a  constant  firing  "in  words.** 
Oh.  my  friend,  could  you  but  witness  the  enormities  some- 
times committed  by  these  tremendous  slang-whangers  your 
very  turban  would  rise  with  horror  and  astonishment.  I 
have  seen  them  extend  their  ravages  even  into  the  kitchens 
of  their  opponents,  and  annihilate  the  very  cook  with  a  blast; 
and  I  do  assure  thee  I  beheld  one  of  these  warriors  attack  a 
most  venerable  bashaw,  and  at  one  stroke  of  his  pen  lay  him 
open  from  the  waistband  of  his  breeches  to  his  chin ! 

There  has  been  a  civil  war  carrying  on  with  great  vio- 
lence for  some  tune  past,  in  consequence  of  a  conspiracy, 
among  the  higher  classes,  to  dethrone  his  highness  the 
present  bashaw,  and  place  another  in  his  stead.  I  was  mis- 
taken when  I  formerly  asserted  to  thee  that  this  dissatisfac- 
tion arose  from  his  wearing  red  breeches.  It  is  true  the 
nation  have  long  held  that  color  in  great  detestation,  in 
consequence  of  a  dispute  they  had  some  twenty  years  since 
with  the  barbarians  of  the  British  islands.  The  color,  how- 
ever, is  again  rising  into  favor,  as  the  ladies  have  transferred 
it  to  their  heads  from  the  bashaw's — body.  The  true  reason, 
I  am  told,  is  that  the  bashaw  absolutely  refuses  to  believe 
in  the  deluge  and  hi  the  story  of  Balaam's  ass;  maintaining 
that  this  animal  was  never  yet  permitted  to  talk  except  hi 
a  genuine  logocracy;  where,  it  is  true,  his  voice  may  often  be 
heard,  and  is  listened  to  with  reverence  as  "the  voice  of  the 
sovereign  people."  Nay,  so  far  did  he  carry  his  obstinacy 
that  he  absolutely  invited  a  professed  antediluvian  from  the 
Gallic  empire,  who  illuminated  the  whole  country  with  his 
principles — and  his  nose.  This  was  enough  to  set  the  nation 
in  a  blaze.  Every  slang-whanger  resorted  to  his  tongue  or 
his  pen,  and  for  seven  years  have  they  carried  on  a  most  in- 


97 

human  war,  in  which  volumes  of  words  have  been  expended, 
oceans  of  ink  have  been  shed,  nor  has  any  mercy  been 
shown  to  age,  sex,  or  condition.  Every  day  have  these 
slang-whangers  made  furious  attacks  on  each  other,  and 
upon  their  respective  adherents;  discharging  their  heavy 
artillery,  consisting  of  large  sheets,  loaded  with  scoundrel! 
villain!  liar!  rascal!  numskull!  nincompoop!  dunderhead! 
wiseacre !  blockhead !  jackass !  and  I  do  swear,  by  my  beard, 
though  I  know  thou  wilt  scarcely  credit  me,  that  in  some  of 
these  skirmishes  the  grand  bashaw  himself  has  been  wofully 
pelted !  yea,  most  ignominiously  pelted ! — and  yet  have  these 
talking  desperadoes  escaped  without  the  bastinado! 

Every  now  and  then  a  slang- whanger  who  has  a  longer 
head,  or  rather  a  longer  tongue,  than  the  rest,  will  elevate 
his  piece  and  discharge  a  shot  quite  across  the  ocean,  leveled 
at  the  head  of  the  emperor  of  France,  the  king  of  England, 
or,  wouldst  thou  believe  it,  oh!  Asem,  even  at  his  sublime 
highness  the  bashaw  of  Tripoli!  These  long  pieces  are  loaded 
with  single  ball  or  langrage,  as  tyrant!  usurper!  robber! 
tiger!  monster!  And  thou  mayest  well  suppose  they  occa- 
sion great  distress  and  dismay  in  the  camps  of  the  enemys 
and  are  marvelously  annoying  to  the  crowned  heads  at  which 
they  are  directed.  The  slang- whanger,  though  perhaps  the 
mere  champion  of  a  village,  having  fired  off  his  shot,  struts 
about  with  great  self-congratulation,  chuckling  at  the  pro- 
digious bustle  he  must  have  occasioned,  and  seems  to  ask  of 
every  stranger,  "Well,  sir,  what  do  they  think  of  me  in  Eu- 
rope?" *  This  is  sufficient  to  show  you  the  manner  in  which 

*  NOTE,  BY  WILLIAM  WIZARD,  ESQ. 

The  sage  Mustapha,  when  he  wrote  the  above  paragraph,  had 
probably  in  his  eye  the  following  anecdote;  related  either  by  Linkutu 
Fidelius,  or  Josephus  Millerius,  vulgarly  called  Joe  Miller,  of  facetious 
memory: 

The  captain  of  a  slave-vessel,  on  his  first  landing  on  the  const  of 
Guinea,  observed,  under  a  palm-tree,  a  negro  chief,  sitting  most  majes- 
tically on  a  stump;  while  two  women,  with  wooden  spoons,  were  ad- 
ministering his  favorite  pottage  of  boiled  rice;  which,  as  his  imperial 

*  *  *  E  VOL.  V. 


of 

these  bloody,  or  rather  windy  fellows  fight;  it  is  the  only 
mode  allowable  in  a  logocracy  or  government  of  words.  I 
would  also  observe  that  their  civil  wars  have  a  thousand 
ramifications. 

While  the  fury  of  the  battle  rages  in  the  metropolis,  every 
little  town  and  village  has  a  distinct  broil,  growing  like  ex- 
crescences out  of  the  grand  national  altercation,  or  rather 
agitating  within  it,  like  those  complicated  pieces  of  mechan- 
ism where  there  is  a  "wheel  within  a  wheel." 

But  in  nothing  is  the  verbose  nature  of  this  government 
more  evident  than  in  its  grand  national  divan  or  congress, 
where  the  laws  are  framed :  this  is  a  blustering,  windy  as- 
sembly, where  everything  is  carried  by  noise,  tumult  and 
debate;  for  thou  must  know  that  the  members  of  this  assem- 
bly do  not  meet  together  to  find  wisdom  in  the  multitude  of 
counselors,  but  to  wrangle,  call  each  other  hard  names,  and 
hear  themselves  talk.  When  the  congress  opens,  the  bashaw 
first  sends  them  a  long  message;  i.e.,  a  huge  mass  of  words 
—  vox  et  preterea  nihil,  all  meaning  nothing;  because  it 
only  tells  them  what  they  perfectly  know  already.  Then 
the  whole  assembly  are  thrown  into  a  ferment,  and  have  a 
long  talk  about  the  quantity  of  words  that  are  to  be  returned 
in  answer  to  this  message ;  and  here  arises  many  disputes 
about  the  correction  and  alteration  of  "if  so  be's,"  and  *shoTY 
so  ever's."  A  month,  perhaps,  is  spent  in  thus  deternuLdng 
the  precise  number  of  words  the  answer  shall  contain  ind 
then  another,  most  probably,  in  concluding  whether  1C  shall 
be  carried  to  the  bashaw  on  foot,  on  horseback,  or  hi  coaehas. 
Having  settled  this  weighty  matter,  they  next  fall  to  work 
upon  the  message  itself,  and  hold  as  much  chattering  over  it 

majesty  was  a  little  greedy,  would  part  of  it  escape  the  place  of  desti- 
nation and  run  down  his  chin.  The  watchful  attendants  were  particu- 
larly careful  to  intercept  these  scape-grace  particles,  and  return  them 
to  their  proper  port  of  entry.  As  the  captain  approached,  in  order  to 
admire  this  curious  exhibition  of  royalty,  the  great  chief  clapped  his 
hands  to  his  sides,  and  saluted  his  visitor  with  the  following  pompous 
question.  "Well,  sir!  what  do  they  say  of  me  in  England?" 


Salma^updi  99 

as  so  many  magpies  over  an  addled  egg.  This  done  they 
divide  the  message  into  small  portions,  and  deliver  them  into 
the  hands  of  little  juntos  of  talkers  called  committees :  these 
juntos  have  each  a  world  of  talking  about  their  respective 
paragraphs,  and  return  the  results  to  the  grand  divan,  which 
forthwith  falls  to  and  retalks  the  matter  over  more  earnestly 
than  ever.  Now,  after  all,  it  is  an  even  chance  that  the  sub- 
ject of  this  prodigious  arguing,  quarreling  and  talking  is 
an  affair  of  no  importance,  and  ends  entirely  in  smoke.  May 
it  not  then  be  said  the  whole  nation  have  been  talking  to  no 
purpose?  The  people,  in  fact,  seem  to  be  somewhat  con- 
scious of  this  propensity  to  talk  by  which  they  are  char- 
acterized, and  have  a  favorite  proverb  on  the  subject; 
viz.,  "All  talk  and  no  cider";  this  is  particularly  ap- 
plied when  their  congress,  or  assembly  of  all  the  sage 
chatterers  of  the  nation,  have  chattered  through  a  whole 
session,  in  a  time  of  great  peril  and  momentous  event,  and 
have  done  nothing  but  exhibit  the  length  of  their  tongues 
and  the  emptiness  of  their  heads.  This  has  been  the  case 
more  than  once,  my  friend;  and  to  let  thee  into  a  secret,  I 
have  been  told  in  confidence  that  there  have  been  absolutely 
several  old  women  smuggled  into  congress  from  different 
parts  of  the  empire;  who,  having  once  got  on  the  breeches, 
as  thou  mayest  well  imagine,  have  taken  the  lead  in  debate, 
and  overwhelmed  the  whole  assembly  with  their  garrulity; 
for  my  part,  as  times  go,  I  do  not  see  why  old  women  should 
not  be  as  eligible  to  public  councils  as  old  men  who  possess 
their  dispositions — they  certainly  are  eminently  possessed  of 
the  qualifications  requisite  to  govern  in  a  logocracy. 

Nothing,  as  I  have  repeatedly  insisted,  can  be  done  in 
this  country  without  talking;  but  they  take  so  long  to  talk 
over  a  measure  that  by  the  tune  they  have  determined  upon 
adopting  it  the  period  has  elapsed  which  was  proper  for 
carrying  it  into  effect.  Unhappy  nation!  —  thus  torn  to 
pieces  by  intestine  talks !  Never,  I  fear,  will  it  be  restored 
to  tranquillity  and  silence.  Words  are  but  breath;  breath 
is  but  air;  and  air  put  into  motion  is  nothing  but  wind. 


100  U/orl^s  of 

This  vast  empire,  therefore,  may  be  compared  to  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  mighty  windmill,  and  the  orators,  and 
the  chatterers,  and  the  slang- whangers,  are  the  breezes  that 
put  it  in  motion;  unluckily,  however,  they  are  apt  to  blow 
different  ways,  and  their  blasts  counteracting  each  other — the 
mill  is  perplexed,  the  wheels  stand  still,  the  grist  is  unground, 
and  the  miller  and  his  family  starved. 

Everything  partakes  of  the  windy  nature  of  the  govern- 
ment. In  case  of  any  domestic  grievance,  or  an  insult  from 
a  foreign  foe,  the  people  are  all  in  a  buzz :  town-meetings  are 
immediately  held  where  the  quidnuncs  of  the  city  repair, 
each  like  an  Atlas,  with  the  cares  of  the  whole  nation  upon 
his  shoulders,  each  resolutely  bent  upon  saving  his  country, 
and  each  swelling  and  strutting  like  a  turkey-cock ;  puffed 
up  with  words,  and  wind,  and  nonsense.  After  bustling, 
and  buzzing,  and  bawling  for  some  time ;  and  after  each  man 
has  shown  himself  to  be  indubitably  the  greatest  personage 
in  the  meeting,  they  pass  a  string  of  resolutions,  i.e.,  words, 
which  were  previously  prepared  for  the  purpose ;  these  reso- 
lutions are  whimsically  denominated  the  sense  of  the  meet- 
ing, and  are  sent  off  for  the  instruction  of  the  reigning 
bashaw,  who  receives  them  graciously,  puts  them  into  his 
red  breeches  pocket,  forgets  to  read  them — and  so  the  matter 
ends. 

As  to  his  highness,  the  present  bashaw,  who  is  at  the  very 
top  of  the  logocracy,  never  was  a  dignitary  better  qualified 
for  his  station.  He  is  a  man  of  superlative  ventosity,  and 
comparable  to  nothing  but  a  huge  bladder  of  wind.  He  talks 
of  vanquishing  all  opposition  by  the  force  of  reason  and  phi- 
losophy ;  throws  his  gauntlet  at  all  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
and  defies  them  to  meet  him — on  the  field  of  argument !  Is 
the  national  dignity  insulted,  a  case  hi  which  his  highness  of 
Tripoli  would  immediately  call  forth  his  forces,  the  bashaw 
of  America — utters  a  speech.  Does  a  foreign  invader  molest 
the  commerce  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  harbors,  an  insult 
which  would  induce  his  highness  of  Tripoli  to  order  out  his 
fleets,  his  highness  of  America — utters  a  speech.  Are  the 


Salma$ui)cfl  101 

free  citizens  of  America  dragged  from  on  board  the  vessels 
of  their  country,  and  forcibly  detained  in  the  warships  of  an- 
other power,  his  highness — utters  a  speech.  Is  a  peaceable 
citizen  killed  by  the  marauders  of  a  foreign  power  on  the 
very  shores  of  his  country,  his  highness — utters  a  speech. 
Does  an  alarming  insurrection  break  out  in  a  distant  part  of 
the  empire,  his  highness — utters  a  speech!  Nay,  more — for 
here  he  shows  his  "energies"— he  most  intrepidly  dispatches 
a  courier  on  horseback  and  orders  him  to  ride  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  a  day,  with  a  most  formidable  army  of 
proclamations,  i.e.  a  collection  of  words,  packed  up  in  his 
saddle  bags.  He  is  instructed  to  show  no  favor  nor  affec- 
tion ;  but  to  charge  the  thickest  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and  to 
speechify  and  batter  by  words  the  conspiracy  and  the  con- 
spirators out  of  existence.  Heavens,  my  friend,  what  a  deal 
of  blustering  is  here!  It  reminds  me  of  a  dunghill  cock  in  a 
farmyard,  who,  having  accidentally  in  his  scratchings  found 
a  worm,  immediately  begins  a  most  vociferous  cackling; 
calls  around  him  his  hen-hearted  companions,  who  run  chat- 
tering from  all  quarters  to  gobble  up  the  poor  little  worm 
that  happened  to  turn  under  his  eye.  Oh,  Asem!  Asem! 
on  what  a  prodigious  great  scale  is  everything  in  this 
country ! 

Thus,  then,  I  conclude  my  observations.  The  infidel  nations 
have  each  a  separate  characteristic  trait  by  which  they  may 
be  distinguished  from  each  other;  the  Spaniards,  for  instance, 
may  be  said  to  sleep  upon  every  affair  of  importance}  the 
[talians  to  fiddle  upon  everything;  the  French  to  dance  upon 
everything;  the  Germans  to  smoko  upon  everything;  the 
British  islanders  to  eat  upon  everything;  and  the  windy 
subjects  of  the  American  logocracy  to  talk  upon  everything. 

Forever  thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 


102  U/or^s  of  U/a&f?iQ<$tor} 


FROM  THE  MILL  OF  PINDAR   COCKLOFT,  ESQ. 

How  oft  in  musing  mood  my  heart  recalls, 
From  gray-beard  father  Time's  oblivious  halls, 
The  modes  and  maxims  of  my  early  day, 
Long  hi  those  dark  recesses  stow'd  away : 
Drags  once  more  to  the  cheerful  realms  of  light 
Those  buckram  fashions,  long  since  lost  in  night, 
And  makes,  like  Endor's  witch,  once  more  to  rise 
My  grogram  grandames  to  my  raptured  eyes! 

Shades  of  my  fathers !  in  your  pasteboard  skirts, 
Your  broidered  waistcoats  and  your  plaited  shirts, 
Your  formal  bag- wigs — wide-extended  cuffs, 
Your  five-inch  chitterlings  and  nine-inch  ruffs! 
Gods !  how  ye  strut,  at  times,  in  all  your  state, 
Amid  the  visions  of  my  thoughtful  pate ! 
I  see  ye  move  the  solemn  minuet  o'er, 
The  modest  foot  scarce  rising  from  the  floor; 
No  thundering  rigadoon  with  boisterous  prance, 
No  pigeon-wing  disturb  your  contre-danse. 
But  silent  as  the  gentle  Lethe's  tide, 
Adown  the  festive  maze  ye  peaceful  glide! 

Still  in  my  mental  eye  each  dame  appears—- 
Each modest  beauty  of  departed  years  \ 
Close  by  mamma  I  see  her  stately  march 
Or  sit,  in  all  the  majesty  of  starch. 
When  for  the  dance  a  stranger  seeks  her  hand, 
I  see  her  doubting,  hesitating,  stand; 
Yield  to  his  claim  with  most  fastidious  grace, 
And  sigh  for  her  intended  in  his  place! 

Ah!  golden  days!  when  every  gentle  fair 
On  sacred  Sabbath  conn'd  with  pious  care 
Her  holy  Bible,  or  her  prayer-book  o'er, 
Or  studied  honest  Bunyan's  drowsy  lore; 
TravePd  with  him  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress"  through, 
And  stonn'd  the  famous  town  of  Man-soul  too: 


Salma$ui?df  103 

Beat  Eye  and  Ear-gate  up  with  thundering  jar, 
And  fought  triumphant  through  the  "Holy  War"; 
Or  if,  perchance,  to  lighter  works  inclined, 
They  sought  with  novels  to  relax  the  mind, 
'Twas  Grandison's  politely  formal  page 
Or  Clelia  or  Pamela  were  the  rage. 

No  plays  were  then — theatrics  were  unknown — 
A  learned  pig — a  dancing  monkey  shown — 
The  feats  of  Punch— a  cunning  juggler's  slight^ 
Were  sure  to  fill  each  bosom  with  delight. 
An  honest,  simple,  humdrum  race  we  were, 
Undazzled  yet  by  fashion's  'wildering  glare 
Our  manners  unreserved,  devoid  of  guile, 
We  knew  not  then  the  modern  monster  style : 
Style,  that  with  pride  each  empty  bosom  swells, 
Puffs  boys  to  manhood,  little  girls  to  belles. 

Scarce  from  the  nursery  freed,  our  gentle  fair 
Are  yielded  to  the  dancing-master's  care ; 
And  e'er  the  head  one  mite  of  sense  can  gain, 
Are  introduced  'mid  folly's  frippery  train. 
A  stranger's  grasp  no  longer  gives  alarms, 
Our  fair  surrender  to  their  very  arms. 
And  in  the  insidious  waltz  (1 )  will  swim  and  twine 
And  whirl  and  languish  tenderly  divine ! 
Oh,  how  I  hate  this  loving,  hugging,  dance; 
This  imp  of  Germany — brought  up  in  France: 
Nor  can  I  see  a  niece  its  windings  trace, 
But  all  the  honest  blood  glows  in  my  face. 
"Sad,  sad  refinement  this,"  I  often  say, 
"  'Tis  modesty  indeed  refined  away! 
Let  France  its  whim,  its  sparkling  wit  supply, 
The  easy  grace  that  captivates  the  eye; 
But  curse  their  waltz — their  loose  lascivious  arts, 
That  smooth  our  manners  to  corrupt  our  hearts!"  (8) 
Where  now  those  books,  from  which  in  days  of  yore 
Our  mothers  gain'd  their  literary  store? 
Alas!  stiff-skirted  Grandison  gives  place 


104:  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii7$toi} 

To  novels  of  a  new  and  rakish  race; 

And  honest  Banyan's  pious  dreaming  lore, 

To  the  lascivious  rhapsodies  of  Moore. 

And,  last  of  all,  behold  the  mimic  stage, 
Its  morals  lend  to  polish  off  the  age, 
With  flimsy  farce,  a  comedy  miscall'd, 
Garnish'd  with  vulgar  cant,  and  proverbs  bald, 
"With  puns  most  puny,  and  a  plenteous  store 
Of  smutty  jokes,  to  catch  a  gallery  roar. 
Or  see,  more  fatal,  graced  with  every  art 
To  charm  and  captivate  the  female  heart, 
The  false,  "the  gallant,  gay  Lothario,"  smiles  (3) 
And  loudly  boasts  his  base  seductive  wiles; 
In  glowing  colors  paints  Calista's  wrongs, 
And  with  voluptuous  scenes  the  tale  prolongs. 
When  Cooper  lends  his  fascinating  powers, 
Decks  vice  itself  in  bright  alluring  flowers, 
Pleased  with  his  manly  grace,  his  youthful  fire, 
Our  fair  are  lured  the  villain  to  admire ; 
While  humbler  virtue,  like  a  stalking  horse, 
Struts  clumsily  and  croaks  in  honest  Morse. 

Ah,  hapless  days !  when  trials  thus  combined, 
In  pleasing  garb  assail  the  female  mind ; 
When  every  smooth  insidious  snare  is  spread 
To  sap  the  morals  and  delude  the  head ! 
Not  Shadrach,  Meshach  and  Abed-nego, 
To  prove  their  faith  and  virtue  here  below, 
Could  more  an  angel's  helping  hand  require 
To  guide  their  steps  uninjured  through  the  fire, 
Where  had  but  Heaven  its  guardian  aid  denied, 
The  holy  trio  in  the  proof  had  died. 
If,  then,  their  manly  vigor  sought  supplies 
From  the  bright  stranger  in  celestial  guise, 
Alas!  can  we  from  feebler  natures  claim, 
To  brave  seduction's  ordeal,  free  from  blame; 
To  pass  through  fire  unhurt  like  golden  ore, 
Though  * 'angel  missions"  bless  the  earth  no  more! 


Salma$ui?di  105 


NOTES  BY  WILLIAM  WIZARD,    ESQ. 

1.  [Waltz.]     As  many  of  the  retired  matrons  of  this  city, 
unskilled  in  "gestic  lore,"  are  doubtless  ignorant  of  the  move 
inents  and  figures  of  this  modest  exhibition,  I  will  endeavor 
to  give  some  account  of  it,  in  order  that  they  may  learn  what 
odd  capers  their  daughters  sometimes  cut  when  from  under 
their  guardian  wings. 

On  a  signal  being  given  by  the  music,  the  gentleman 
seizes  the  lady  round  her  waist;  the  lady,  scorning  to  b& 
outdone  in  courtesy,  very  politely  takes  the  gentleman  round 
the  neck,  with  one  arm  resting  against  his  shoulder  to  pre- 
vent encroachments.  Away  then  they  go,  about,  and  about, 
and  about — "About  what,  sir?" — about  the  room,  madam, 
to  be  sure.  The  whole  economy  of  this  dance  consists  in 
turning  round  and  round  the  room  in  a  certain  measured 
step ;  and  it  is  truly  astonishing  that  this  continued  revolu- 
tion does  not  set  all  their  heads  swimming  like  a  top;  but  I 
have  been  positively  assured  that  it  only  occasions  a  gentle 
sensation  which  is  marvelously  agreeable.  In  the  course  P* 
this  circumnavigation  the  dancers,  in  order  to  give  the  charm 
of  variety,  are  continually  changing  their  relative  situations. 
Now  the  gentleman,  meaning  no  harm  in  the  world,  I  assure 
you,  madam,  carelessly  flings  his  arm  about  the  lady's  neck, 
with  an  air  of  celestial  impudence ;  and  anon  the  lady,  mean- 
ing as  little  harm  as  the  gentleman,  takes  him  round  the 
waist  with  most  ingenuous  modest  languishment,  to  the  great 
delight  of  numerous  spectators  and  amateurs,  who  generally 
form  a  ring,  as  the  mob  do  about  a  pair  of  Amazons  pulling 
caps,  or  a  couple  of  fighting  mastiffs. 

After  continuing  this  divine  interchange  of  hands,  arms, 
et  cetera,  for  half  an  hour  or  so,  the  lady  begins  to  tire,  and 
with  "eyes  upraised,"  in  most  bewitching  languor  petitions 
her  partner  for  a  little  more  support.  This  is  always  given 
without  hesitation.  The  lady  leans  gently  on  his  shoulder, 
their  arms  entwine  in  a  thousand  seducing,  mischievous  curves 
— don't  be  alarmed,  madam — closer  and  closer  they  approach 
each  other,  and,  in  conclusion,  the  parties  being  overcome 
with  ecstatic  fatigue,  the  lady  seems  almost  sinking  into  the 
gentleman's  arms,  and  then — "Well,  sir,  and  what  then?" — 
lord,  madam,  how  should  I  know! 

2.  My  friend  Pindar,  and,  in  fact,  our  whole  junto,  has 
been  accused  of  an  unreasonable  hostility  to  the  French  na- 


106  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)$too  Iruli)<j 

tion;  and  I  am  informed  by  a  Parisian  correspondent  that 
our  first  number  played  the  very  devil  in  the  court  of  St. 
Cloud.  His  imperial  majesty  got  into  a  most  outrageous  pas- 
sion, and  being  withal  a  waspish  little  gentleman,  had  nearly 
kicked  his  bosom  friend,  Talleyrand,  out  of  the  cabinet,  in 
the  paroxysms  of  his  wrath.  He  insisted  upon  it  that  the 
nation  was  assailed  in  its  most  vital  part;  being,  like  Achilles, 
extremely  sensitive  to  any  attacks  upon  the  heel.  When  my 
correspondent  sent  off  his  dispatches,  it  was  still  in  doubt 
what  measures  would  be  adopted;  but  it  was  strongly  sus- 
pected that  vehement  representations  would  be  made  to  our 
government.  Willing,  therefore,  to  save  our  executive  from 
any  embarrassment  on  the  subject,  and,  above  all,  from  the  dis- 
agreeable alternative  of  sending  an  apology  by  the  "Hornet," 
we  do  assure  Mr.  Jefferson  that  there  is  nothing  further  from 
our  thoughts  than  the  subversion  of  the  Gallic  empire,  or  any 
attack  on  the  interests,  tranquillity,  or  reputation  of  the  na- 
tion at  large,  which  we  seriously  declare  possesses  the  high- 
est rank  in  our  estimation.  Nothing  less  than  the  national 
welfare  could  have  induced  us  to  trouble  ourselves  with  this 
explanation;  and  in  the  name  of  the  junto,  I  once  more  de- 
clare that  when  we  toast  a  Frenchman  we  merely  mean  one 
of  these  inconnus  who  swarmed  to  this  country  from  the 
kitchens  and  barbers'  shops  of  Nantz,  Bordeaux,  and  Mar- 
seilles; played  game  of  leap-frog  at  all  our  balls  and  assem- 
blies; set  this  unhappy  town  hopping  mad:  and  passed 
themselves  off  on  our  tender-hearted  damsels  for  unfortu- 
nate noblemen — ruined  in  the  revolution!  Such  only  can 
wince  at  the  lash,  and  accuse  us  of  severity;  and  we  should 
be  mortified  in  the  extreme  if  they  did  not  feel  our  well-in- 
tended castigation. 

3.  [Fair  Penitent.  ]  The  story  of  this  play,  if  told  in  its 
native  language,  would  exhibit  a  scene  of  guilt  and  shame 
which  no  modest  ear  could  listen  to  without  shrinking  with 
disgust;  but,  arrayed  as  it  is  in  all  the  splendor  of  harmoni- 
ous, rich,  and  polished  verse,  it  steals  into  the  heart  like  some 
gay,  luxurious,  smooth-faced  villain,  and  betrays  it  insensibly 
to  immorality  and  vice;  our  very  sympathy  is  enlisted  on  the 
side  of  guilt;  and  the  piety  of  Altamont,  and  the  gentleness 
of  Lavinia,  are  lost  in  the  splendid  debaucheries  of  the  "gal- 
lant, gay  Lothario,"  and  the  blustering,  hollow  repentance 
of  the  fair  Calisto,  whose  sorrow  reminds  us  of  that  of  Pope's 
"Heloise"  —  "I  mourn  the  lover,  not  lament  the  fault." 
Nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  banish  such  plays  from  our 


107 

stage.  "Were  our  ladies,  instead  of  crowding  to  see  them 
again  and  again  repeated,  to  discourage  their  exhibition  by 
absence,  the  stage  would  soon  be  indeed  the  school  of  moral- 
ity, and  the  number  of  "Fair  Penitents,"  in  all  probability, 
diminished. 


No.   VIII.— SATURDAY,    APRIL    18,    1807 
BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,   GENT. 

"In  all  thy  humors,  whether  grave  or  mellow, 
Thou'rt  such  a  touchy,  testy,  pleasant  fellow; 
Hast  so  much  wit,  and  mirth,  and  spleen  about  thee, 
There  is  no  living1  with  thee — nor  without  thee." 

"NEVER,  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant,  has 
there  been  known  a  more  backward  spring."  This  is  the 
universal  remark  among  the  almanac  quidnuncs  and  weather- 
wiseacres  of  the  day;  and  I  have  heard  it  at  least  fifty-five 
times  from  old  Mrs.  Cockloft,  who,  poor  woman,  is  one  of 
those  walking  almanacs  that  foretell  every  snow,  rain,  or 
frost,  by  the  shooting  of  corns,  a  pain  in  the  bones,  or  an 
"ugly  stitch  in  the  side."  I  do  not  recollect,  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life,  to  have  seen  the  month  of  March  indulge 
in  such  untoward  capers,  caprices  and  coquetries  as  it  has 
done  this  year.  I  might  have  forgiven  these  vagaries,  had 
they  not  completely  knocked  up  my  friend  Langstaff,  whose 
feelings  are  ever  at  the  mercy  of  a  weathercock,  whose  spirits 
sink  and  rise  with  the  mercury  of  a  barometer,  and  to  whom 
an  east  wind  is  as  obnoxious  as  a  Sicilian  sirocco.  He  was 
tempted  some  time  since,  by  the  fineness  of  the  weather,  to 
dress  himself  with  more  than  ordinary  care  and  take  his 
morning  stroll ;  but  before  he  had  half  finished  his  peregrina- 
tion,  he  was  utterly  discomfited,  and  driven  home  by  a  tre* 
mendous  squall  of  wind,  hail,  rain,  and  snow;  or,  as  he 
testily  termed  it,  "a  most  villainous  congregation  of  vapors." 

This  was  too  much  for  the  patience  of  friend  Launcelotj 


108  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)<$toi7  Irvli)<? 

he  declared  he  would  humor  the  weather  no  longer  in  its 
whim- whams ;  and,  according  to  his  immemorial  custom  on 
these  occasions,  retreated  in  high  dudgeon  to  his  elbow-chair 
to  lie  in  of  the  spleen  and  rail  at  nature  for  being  so  fantasti- 
cal. "Confound  the  jade,"  he  frequently  exclaims,  "what  a 
pity  nature  had  not  been  of  the  masculine  instead  of  the 
f eminine  gender ;  the  almanac  makers  might  then  have  cal- 
culated with  some  degree  of  certainty." 

"When  Langstaff  invests  himself  with  the  spleen,  and  gives 
audience  to  the  blue  devils  from  his  elbow-chair,  I  would  not 
advise  any  of  his  friends  to  come  within  gunshot  of  his  citadel 
with  the  benevolent  purpose  of  administering  consolation  or 
amusement:  for  he  is  then  as  crusty  and  crabbed  as  that 
famous  coiner  of  false  money,  Diogenes  himself.  Indeed, 
his  room  is  at  such  times  inaccessible ;  and  old  Pompey  is 
the  only  soul  that  can  gain  admission  or  ask  a  question  with 
impunity ;  the  truth  is,  that  on  these  occasions  there  is  not 
a  straw's  difference  between  them,  for  Pompey  is  as  grum 
and  grim  and  cynical  as  his  master. 

Launcelot  has  now  been  above  three  weeks  in  this  deso- 
late situation,  and  has  therefore  had  but  little  to  do  in  our 
last  number.  As  he  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  give  any 
account  of  himself  in  our  introduction,  I  will  take  the  oppor- 
tunity of  his  confinement,  while  his  back  is  turned,  to  give  a 
slight  sketch  of  his  character— fertile  in  whim-whams  and 
bachelorisms,  but  rich  in  many  of  the  sterling  qualities  of 
our  nature.  Annexed  to  this  article,  our  readers  will  per- 
ceive a  striking  likeness  of  my  friend,  which  was  taken  by 
that  cunning  rogue  Will  "Wizard,  who  peeped  through  the 
keyhole  and  sketched  it  off  as  honest  Launcelot  sat  by  the 
fire,  wrapped  up  in  his  flannel  robe  de  chambre,  and  indulg- 
ing in  a  mortal  fit  of  the  hyp.  Now  take  my  word  for  it, 
gentle  reader,  this  is  the  most  auspicious  moment  in  which 
to  touch  off  the  phiz  of  a  genuine  humorist. 

Of  the  antiquity  of  the  Langstaff  family  I  can  say  but 
little,  except  that  I  have  no  doubt  it  is  equal  to  that  of  most 
families  who  have  the  privilege  of  making  their  own  pedi- 


109 

gree  without  the  impertinent  interposition  erf  a  college  of 
heralds.  My  friend  Launcelot  is  not  a  man  to  blazon  any- 
thing; but  I  have  heard  him  talk  with  great  complacency  of 
his  ancestor,  Sir  Rowland,  who  was  a  dashing  buck  in  the 
days  of  Hardiknute,  and  broke  the  head  of  a  gigantic  Dane, 
at  a  game  of  quarter-staff,  in  presence  of  the  whole  court. 
In  memory  of  this  gallant  exploit,  Sir  Rowland  was  per- 
mitted to  take  the  name  of  Langstoffe,  and  to  assume,  as  a 
crest  to  his  arms,  a  hand  grasping  a  cudgel.  It  is,  however, 
a  foible  so  ridiculously  common  in  this  country  for  people  to 
claim  consanguinity  with  all  the  great  personages  of  their 
own  name  in  Europe  that  I  should  put  but  little  faith  in  this 
family  boast  of  friend  Langstaff  did  I  not  know  hiTn  to  be  a 
man  of  most  unquestionable  veracity. 

The  whole  world  knows  already  that  my  friend  is  a  bach- 
elor; for  he  is,  or  pretends  to  be,  exceedingly  proud  of  his 
personal  independence,  and  takes  care  to  make  it  known  in 
all  companies  where  strangers  are  present.  He  is  forever 
vaunting  the  precious  state  of  "single  blessedness'*;  and  was 
not  long  ago  considerably  startled  at  a  proposition  of  one  of 
his  great  favorites,  Miss  Sophy  Sparkle,  "that  old  bachelors 
should  be  taxed  as  luxuries."  Launcelot  immediately  hied 
him  nome  and  wrote  a  tremendous  long  representation  in 
their  behalf,  which  I  am  resolved  to  publish  if  it  is  ever  at- 
tempted to  carry  the  measure  into  operation.  Whether  he  is 
sincere  in  these  professions,  or  whether  his  present  situation 
is  owing  to  choice  or  disappointment,  he  only  can  tell;  but  if 
he  ever  does  tell,  I  will  suffer  myself  to  be  shot  by  the  first 
lady's  eye  that  can  twang  an  arrow.  In  his  youth  he  was 
forever  in  love;  but  it  was  his  misfortune  to  be  continually 
crossed  and  rivaled  by  his  bosom  friend  and  contemporary 
beau,  Pindar  Cockloft,  Esq.,  for  as  Langstaff  never  made 
a  confidant  on  these  occasions,  his  friend  never  knew  which 
way  his  affections  pointed ;  and  so,  between  them  both,  the 
lady  generally  slipped  through  their  fingersc 

It  has  ever  been  the  misfortune  of  Launcelot  that  he  could 
not  for  the  soul  of  him  restrain  a  good  thing;  and  this  fatal- 


ITO  UforKs  of 

ity  has  drawn  upon  him  the  ill  will  of  many  whom  he  would 
not  have  offended  for  the  world.  "With  the  kindest  heart 
under  heaven,  and  the  most  benevolent  disposition  toward 
every  being  around  him,  he  has  been  continually  betrayed 
by  the  mischievous  vivacity  of  his  fancy,  and  the  good-hu- 
mored waggery  of  his  feelings,  into  satirical  sallies  which 
have  been  treasured  up  by  the  invidious,  and  retailed  out 
with  the  bitter  sneer  of  malevolence,  instead  of  the  playful 
hilarity  of  countenance  which  originally  sweetened  and  tern  • 
pered  and  disarmed  them  of  their  sting.  — These  misrepresen- 
tations have  gained  him  many  reproaches  and  lost  him  many 
a  friend. 

This  unlucky  characteristic  played  the  mischief  with  him 
in  one  of  his  love  affairs.  He  was,  as  I  have  before  observed, 
often  opposed  hi  his  gallantries  by  that  formidable  rival,  Pin- 
dar Cockloft,  Esq. ,  and  a  most  formidable  rival  he  was ;  for 
he  had  Apollo,  the  nine  muses,  together  with  all  the  joint 
tenants  of  Olympus  to  back  him ;  and  everybody  knows  what 
important  confederates  they  are  to  a  lover.  Poor  Launcelot 
Btood  no  chance — the  lady  was  cooped  up  in  the  poet's  corner 
of  every  weekly  paper;  and  at  length  Pindar  attacked  her 
with  a  sonnet  that  took  up  a  whole  column,  in  which  he 
enumerated  at  least  a  dozen  cardinal  virtues,  together  with 
innumerable  others  of  inferior  consideration.  Launcelot  saw 
his  case  was  desperate,  and  that  unless  he  sat  down  forthwith, 
be-cherubimed  and  be-angeled  her  to  the  skies,  and  put  every 
virtue  under  the  sun  in  requisition,  he  might  as  well  go  hang 
himself  and  so  make  an  end  of  the  business.  At  it,  there- 
fore, he  went;  and  was  going  on  very  swimmingly,  for,  in 
the  space  of  a  dozen  lines  he  had  enlisted  under  her  com- 
mand at  least  threescore  and  ten  substantial  housekeeping 
virtues,  when,  unluckily  for  Launcelot's  reputation  as  a  poet 
and  the  lady's  as  a  saint,  one  of  those  confounded  good 
thoughts  struck  his  laughter-loving  brain — it  was  irresisti- 
ble ;  away  he  went  full  sweep  before  the  wind,  cutting  and 
slashing  and  tickled  to  death  with  his  own  fun?  the  con- 
sequence was  that,  by  the  time  he  had  finished,  ^ever  was 


Salma$ui)di  111 

poor  lady  so  most  ludicrously  lampooned  since  lampooning 
come  into  fashion.  But  this  was  not  half.  So  hugely  was 
Launcelot  pleased  with  this  frolic  of  his  wits  that  nothing 
would  do  but  he  must  show  it  to  the  lady,  who,  as  well  she 
might,  was  mortally  offended,  and  forbid  him  her  presence. 
My  friend  was  in  despair;  but  through  the  interference  of 
his  generous  rival  was  permitted  to  make  his  apology,  which, 
however,  most  unluckily  happened  to  be  rather  worse  than 
the  original  offense ;  for  though  he  had  studied  an  eloquent 
compliment,  yet,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  a  most  preposter- 
ous whim-wham  knocked  at  his  pericranium,  and  inspired 
him  to  say  some  consummate  good  things,  which  all  put 
together  amounted  to  a  downright  hoax,  and  provoked  the 
lady's  wrath  to  such  a  degree  that  sentence  of  eternal  ban- 
ishment was  awarded  against  him. 

Launcelot  was  inconsolable,  and  determined,  in  the  true 
style  of  novel  heroics,  to  make  the  tour  of  Europe,  and  en- 
deavor to  lose  the  recollection  of  this  misfortune  among  the 
gayeties  of  France  and  the  classic  charms  of  Italy;  he  ac- 
cordingly took  passage  in  a  vessel  and  pursued  his  voyage 
prosperously  as  far  as  Sandy  Hook,  where  he  was  seized 
with  a  violent  fit  of  seasickness ;  at  which  he  was  so  affronted 
that  he  put  his  portmanteau  into  the  first  pilot-boat  and  re- 
turned to  town  completely  cured  of  his  love  and  his  rage  for 
traveling. 

I  pass  over  the  subsequent  amours  of  my  friend  Lang- 
staff,  being  but  little  acquainted  with  them ;  for,  as  I  have 
already  mentioned,  he  never  was  known  to  make  a  confidant 
of  anybody.  He  always  affirmed  a  man  must  be  a  fool  to 
fall  in  love,  but  an  idiot  to  boast  of  it ;  ever  denominated  it 
the  villainous  passion ;  lamented  that  it  could  not  be  cudgeled 
out  of  the  human  heart ;  and  yet  could  no  more  live  without 
being  in  love  with  somebody  or  other  than  he  could  without 
whim-whams. 

My  friend  Launcelot  is  a  man  of  excessive  irritability  of 
nerve,  and  I  am  acquainted  with  no  one  so  susceptible  of  the 
petty  "miseries  of  human  life";  yet  its  keener  evils  and  mis- 


11  a  U/orKs  of  U/a»l?io$tor) 

fortunes  he  bears  without  shrinking,  and,  however  they  may 
prey  in  secret  on  his  happiness,  he  never  complains.  This 
was  strikingly  evinced  in  an  affair  where  his  heart  was 
deeply  and  irrevocably  concerned,  and  in  which  his  success 
was  ruined  by  one  for  whom  he  had  long  cherished  a  warm 
sriendship.  The  circumstance  cut  poor  Langstaff  to  the  very 
foul;  he  was  not  seen  in  company  for  months  afterward,  and 
for  a  long  time  he  seemed  to  retire  within  himself,  and  bat- 
tle with  the  poignancy  of  his  feelings ;  but  not  a  murmur  or 
a  reproach  was  heard  to  fall  from  his  lips,  though,  at  the 
mention  of  his  friend's  name,  a  shade  of  melancholy  might 
be  observed  stealing  across  his  face,  and  his  voice  assumed 
a  touching  tone,  that  seemed  to  say,  he  remembered  his 
treachery  "more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger."  This  affair  has 
given  a  slight  tinge  of  sadness  to  his  disposition,  which,  how- 
ever, does  not  prevent  his  entering  into  the  amusements  of 
the  world ;  the  only  effect  it  occasions  is,  that  you  may  occa- 
sionally observe  him,  at  the  end  of  a  lively  conversation,  sink 
for  a  few  minutes  into  an  apparent  forgetfulness  of  surround- 
ing objects,  during  which  time  he  seems  to  be  indulging  in 
some  melancholy  retrospection. 

Langstaff  inherited  from  his  father  a  love  of  literature, 
a  disposition  for  castle-building,  a  mortal  enmity  to  noise,  a 
sovereign  antipathy  to  cold  weather  and  brooms,  and  a  plenti- 
ful stock  of  whim-whams.  From  the  delicacy  of  his  nerves 
he  is  peculiarly  sensible  to  discordant  sounds :  the  rattling  of 
a  wheelbarrow  is  "horrible";  the  noise  of  children  "drives 
him  distracted";  and  he  once  left  excellent  lodgings  merely 
because  the  lady  of  the  house  wore  high-heeled  shoes,  in 
which  she  clattered  up  and  down  stairs,  till,  to  use  his  own 
emphatic  expression,  "they  made  life  loathsome"  to  him. 
He  suffers  annual  martyrdom  from  the  razor-edged  zephyrs 
of  our  "balmy  spring,"  and  solemnly  declares  that  the  boasted 
month  of  May  has  become  a  perfect  "vagabond."  As  some 
people  have  a  great  antipathy  to  cats,  and  can  tell  when  one 
is  locked  up  in  a  closet,  so  Launcelot  declares  his  feelings  al- 
ways announce  to  him  the  neighborhood  of  a  broom;  a  house- 


Salma^updl  113 

hold  implement  which  he  abominates  above  all  others.  Nor 
is  there  any  living  animal  in  the  world  that  he  holds  in  more 
utter  abhorrence  than  what  is  usually  termed  a  notable  house- 
wife ;  a  pestilent  being,  who,  he  protests,  is  the  bane  of  good 
fellowship,  and  has  a  heavy  charge  to  answer  for  the  many 
offenses  committed  against  the  ease,  comfort,  and  social  en- 
joyments of  sovereign  man.  He  told  me,  not  long  ago,  "that 
he  had  rather  see  one  of  the  weird  sisters  flourish  through 
his  keyhole  on  a  broomstick  than  one  of  the  servant  maids 
enter  the  door  with  a  besom." 

My  friend  Launcelot  is  ardent  and  sincere  in  his  attach- 
ments, which  are  confined  to  a  chosen  few,  in  whose  society 
he  loves  to  give  free  scope  to  his  whimsical  imagination;  he, 
however,  mingles  freely  with  the  world,  though  more  as  a 
spectator  than  an  actor;  and  without  an  anxiety,  or  hardly 
a  care  to  please,  is  generally  received  with  welcome  and  list- 
ened to  with  complacency.  When  he  extends  his  hand  it  is 
in  a  free,  open,  liberal  style ;  and  when  you  shake  it,  you  feel 
his  honest  heart  throb  in  its  pulsations.  Though  rather  fond 
of  gay  exhibitions,  he  does  not  appear  so  frequently  at  balls 
and  assemblies  since  the  introduction  of  the  drum,  trumpet, 
and  tambourine ;  all  of  which  he  abhors  on  account  of  the  rude 
attacks  they  make  on  his  organs  of  hearing.  In  short,  such  is 
his  antipathy  to  noise,  that  though  exceedingly  patriotic,  yet 
he  retreats  every  fourth  of  July  to  Cockloft  Hall,  in  order  to 
get  out  of  the  way  of  the  hubbub  and  confusion  which  make 
so  considerable  a  part  of  the  pleasure  of  that  splendid  anni- 
versary. 

I  intend  this  article  as  a  mere  sketch  of  Langstaff 's  multi- 
farious character  5  his  innumerable  whim- whams  will  be  ex- 
hibited by  himself,  in  the  course  of  this  work,  in  all  their 
strange  varieties ;  and  the  machinery  of  his  mind,  more  intri- 
cate than  the  most  subtle  piece  of  clock-work,  be  fully  ex- 
plained. And  trust  me,  gentlefolk,  his  are  the  whim- whams 
of  a  courteous  gentleman  full  of  most  excellent  qualities  j  honor- 
able in  his  disposition,  independent  in  his  sentiments,  and  of  un- 
bounded good  nature,  as  may  be  seen  through  all  his  works. 


lit  U/or^s  of 


ON  STYLE 

BY   WILLIAM  WIZARD,    ESQ. 

STYLE,  a  manner  of  writing;  title;  pin  of  a  dial;  the  pistil 
of  plants.  —  JOHNSON. 

STYLE,  is  ........  style.—  LINKUM  FIDELIUS 

Now  I  would  not  give  a  straw  for  either  of  the  above 
definitions,  though  I  think  the  latter  is  by  far  the  most  satis- 
factory ;  and  I  do  wish  sincerely  every  modern  numskull  who 
takes  hold  of  a  subject  he  knows  nothing  about  would  adopt 
honest  Linkum's  mode  of  explanation.  Blair's  Lectures  on 
this  article  have  not  thrown  a  whit  more  light  on  the  subject 
of  my  inquiries  ;  they  puzzled  me  just  as  much  as  did  the 
learned  and  laborious  expositions  and  illustrations  of  the 
worthy  professor  of  our  college,  in  the  middle  of  which  I 
generally  had  the  ill-luck  to  fall  asleep. 

This  same  word  style,  though  but  a  diminutive  word,  as- 
sumes to  itself  more  contradictions,  and  significations,  and 
eccentricities,  than  any  monosyllable  in  the  language  is  legiti- 
mately entitled  to.  It  is  an  arrant  little  humorist  of  a  word, 
and  full  of  whim-  whams,  which  occasions  me  to  like  it  hugely  ; 
but  it  puzzled  me  most  wickedly  on  my  first  return  from  a 
long  residence  abroad,  having  crept  into  fashionable  use  dur- 
ing my  absence  ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  friend  Evergreen, 
and  that  thrifty  sprig  of  knowledge,  Jeremy  Cockloft  the 
younger,  I  should  have  remained  to  this  day  ignorant  of  its 
meaning. 

Though  it  would  seem  that  the  people  of  all  countries  are 
equally  vehement  in  the  pursuit  of  this  phantom,  style,  yet 
in  almost  all  of  them  there  is  a  strange  diversity  in  opinion 
as  to  what  constitutes  its  essence;  and  every  different  class, 
like  the  pagan  nations,  adore  it  under  a  different  form.  In 
England,  for  instance,  an  honest  cit  packs  up  himself,  his 
family,  and  his  style,  in  a  buggy  01  tim-  whisky,  and  rattles 


8alma$ui)df  115 

away  on  Sunday  with  his  fair  partner  blooming  beside  him, 
like  an  eastern  bride,  and  two  chubby  children  squatting  like 
Chinese  images  at  his  feet.  A  baronet  requires  a  chariot  and 
pair;  a  lord  must  needs  have  a  barouche  and  four;  but  a  duke 
— oh !  a  duke  cannot  possibly  lumber  his  style  along  under  a 
coach  and  six,  and  half  a  score  of  footmen  into  the  bargain. 
In  China  a  puissant  mandarin  loads  at  least  three  elephants 
with  style ;  and  an  overgrown  sheep  at  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  trails  along  his  tail  and  his  style  on  a  wheelbarrow. 
In  Egypt,  or  at  Constantinople,  style  consists  in  the  quantity 
of  fur  and  fine  clothes  a  lady  can  put  on  without  danger  of 
suffocation ;  here  it  is  otherwise,  and  consists  in  the  quantity 
she  can  put  off  without  the  risk  of  freezing.  A  Chinese  lady 
is  thought  prodigal  of  her  charms  if  she  expose  the  tip  of  her 
nose,  or  the  ends  of  her  fingers,  to  the  ardent  gaze  of  by- 
standers ;  and  I  recollect  that  all  Canton  was  in  a  buzz  in  con- 
sequence of  the  great  belle,  Miss  Nangfous,  peeping  out  of  the 
window  with  her  face  uncovered.  Here  the  style  is  to  show 
not  only  the  face,  but  the  neck,  shoulders,  etc. ;  and  a  lady 
never  presumes  to  hide  them  except  when  she  is  not  at  home, 
and  not  sufficiently  undressed  to  see  company. 

This  style  has  ruined  the  peace  and  harmony  of  many  a 
worthy  household ;  for  no  sooner  do  they  set  up  for  style  but 
instantly  all  the  honest  old  comfortable  sans  ceremonie  fur- 
niture is  discarded;  and  you  stalk  cautiously  about  among 
the  uncomfortable  splendor  of  Grecian  chairs,  Egyptian  tables, 
Turkey  carpets,  and  Etruscan  vases.  This  vast  improvement 
in  furniture  demands  an  increase  in  the  domestic  establish' 
ment ;  and  a  family  that  once  required  two  or  three  servants 
for  convenience  now  employs  half  a  dozen  for  style. 

Bell-brazen,  late  favorite  of  my  unfortunate  friend  Des- 
salines,  was  one  of  these  patterns  of  style;  and  whatever 
freak  she  was  seized  with,  however  preposterous,  was  im- 
plicitly followed  by  all  who  would  be  considered  as  admitted 
in  the  stylish  arcana.  She  was  once  seized  with  a  whim- 
wham  that  tickled  the  whole  court.  She  rt,ould  not  lie  down 
to  take  an  afternoon's  lolJ  but  she  must  have  one  servant  to 


116  U/orKs  of  U/asI?ir}$toi7  Iruir)$ 

scratch  her  head,  two  to  tickle  her  feet,  and  a  fourth  to  fan 
her  delectable  person  while  she  slumbered.  The  thing  took; 
it  became  the  rage,  and  not  a  sable  belle  in  all  Hayti  but 
what  insisted  upon  being  fanned,  and  scratched,  and  tickled 
in  the  true  imperial  style.  Sneer  not  at  this  picture,  my 
most  excellent  townswomen,  for  who  among  you  but  are 
daily  following  fashions  equally  absurd! 

Style,  according  to  Evergreen's  account,  consists  in  cer- 
tain fashions,  or  certain  eccentricities,  or  certain  manners  of 
certain  people,  in  certain  situations,  and  possessed  of  a  cer- 
tain share  of  fashion  or  importance.  A  red  cloak,  for  in- 
stance, on  the  shoulders  of  an  old  market-woman  is  regarded 
with  contempt ;  it  is  vulgar,  it  is  odious.  Fling,  however, 
its  usurping  rival,  a  red  shawl,  over  the  fine  figure  of  a 
fashionable  belle,  and  let  her  flame  away  with  it  in  Broad- 
way, or  in  a  ball-room,  and  it  is  immediately  declared  to  be 
the  style. 

The  modes  of  attaining  this  certain  situation,  which  en- 
title its  holder  to  style,  are  various  and  opposite ;  the  most 
ostensible  is  the  attainment  of  wealth,  the  possession  of  which 
changes,  at  once,  the  pert  airs  of  vulgar  ignorance  into  fash- 
ionable ease  and  elegant  vivacity.  It  is  highly  amusing  to 
observe  the  gradation  of  a  family  aspiring  to  style,  and  the 
devious  windings  they  pursue  in  order  to  attain  it.  While 
beating  up  against  wind  and  tide  they  are  the  most  com- 
plaisant beings  in  the  world;  they  keep  "booing  and  boo- 
ing," as  M'Sycophant  says,  until  you  would  suppose  them 
incapable  of  standing  upright;  they  kiss  their  hands  to  every- 
body who  has  the  least  claim  to  style ;  their  familiarity  is 
intolerable,  and  they  absolutely  overwhelm  you  with  their 
friendship  and  loving-kindness.  But  having  once  gained  the 
envied  pre-eminence,  never  were  beings  in  the  world  more 
changed.  They  assume  the  most  intolerable  caprices;  at  one 
time,  address  you  with  importunate  sociability;  at  another, 
pass  you  by  with  silent  indifference;  sometimes  sit  up  in 
their  chairs  in  all  the  majesty  of  dignified  silence;  and  at 
another  time  bounce  about  with  all  the  obstreperous  ill-bred 


11? 

noise  of  a  little  hoyden  just  broke  loose  from  a  boarding- 
school. 

Another  feature  which  distinguishes  these  new-made  fash- 
ionables is  the  inveteracy  with  which  they  look  down  upon 
the  honest  people  who  are  struggling  to  climb  up  to  the  same 
envied  height.  They  never  fail  to  salute  them  with  the  most 
sarcastic  reflections;  and  like  so  many  worthy  hodmen  clam- 
bering a  ladder,  each  one  looks  down  upon  his  next  neighbor 
below  and  makes  no  scruple  of  shaking  the  dust  off  his  shoe* 
into  his  eyes.  Thus  by  dint  of  perseverance,  merely,  they 
come  to  be  considered  as  established  denizens  of  the  great 
world;  as  hi  some  barbarous  nations  an  oyster-shell  is  of 
sterling  value  and  a  copper-washed  counter  will  pass  current 
for  genuine  gold. 

In  no  instance  have  I  seen  this  grasping  after  style  more 
whimsically  exhibited  than  in  the  family  of  my  old  acquaint- 
ance, Timothy  Qiblet. — I  recollect  old  Giblet  when  I  was  a 
boy,  and  he  was  the  most  surly  curmudgeon  I  ever  knew. 
He  was  a  perfect  scarecrow  to  the  small-fry  of  the  day,  and 
inherited  the  hatred  of  all  these  unlucky  little  shavers;  for 
never  could  we  assemble  about  his  door  of  an  evening  to 
play,  and  make  a  little  hubbub,  but  out  he  sallied  from  his 
nest  like  a  spider,  flourished  his  formidable  horsewhip,  and 
dispersed  the  whole  crew  in  the  twinkling  of  a  lamp.  I  per- 
fectly remember  a  bill  he  sent  in  to  my  father  for  a  pane  of 
glass  I  had  accidentally  broken,  which  came  wellnigh  get- 
ting me  a  sound  flogging;  and  I  remember  as  perfectly  that 
the  next  night  I  revenged  myself  by  breaking  halt  a  dozen. 
Giblet  was  as  arrant  a  grub  worm  as  ever  crawled;  and  the 
only  rules  of  right  and  wrong  he  cared  a  button  for  were  the 
rules  of  multiplication  and  addition ;  which  he  practiced  much 
more  successfully  than  he  did  any  of  the  rules  of  religion  or 
morality.  He  used  to  declare  they  were  the  true  golden 
rules ;  and  he  took  special  care  to  put  Cocker's  arithmetic  in 
the  hands  of  his  children  before  they  had  read  ten  pages 
hi  the  Bible  or  the  prayer-book  The  practice  of  these  favor- 
ite maxims  was  at  length  crowned  with  the  harvest  of  sue- 


118  U/orl^g  of 

cess;  and  after  a  life  of  incessant  self-denial  and  starvation, 
and  after  enduring  all  the  pounds,  shillings  and  p  ance  mis- 
eries of  a  miser,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  himself 
worth  a  plum  and  of  dying  just  as  he  had  determined  to  en- 
joy the  remainder  of  his  days  in  contemplating  his  great 
wealth  and  accumulating  mortgages. 

His  children  inherited  his  money;  but  they  buried  the 
disposition,  and  every  other  memorial  of  their  father,  in  his 
grave.  Fired  with  a  noble  thirst  for  style,  they  instantly 
emerged  from  the  retired  lane  in  which  themselves  and  their 
accomplishments  had  hitherto  been  buried;  and  they  blazed, 
and  they  whizzed,  and  they  cracked  about  town,  like  a  nest 
of  squibs  and  devils  in  a  firework.  I  can  liken  their  sudden 
eclat  to  nothing  but  that  of  the  locust,  which  is  hatched  hi 
the  dust,  where  it  increases  and  swells  up  to  maturity,  and 
after  feeling  for  a  moment  the  vivifying  rays  of  the  sun, 
bursts  forth  a  mighty  insect,  and  flutters,  and  rattles,  and 
buzzes  from  every  tree.  The  little  warblers  who  have  long 
cheered  the  woodlands  with  their  dulcet  notes  are  stunned  by 
the  discordant  racket  of  these  upstart  intruders,  and  contem- 
plate, in  contemptuous  silence,  their  tinsel  and  their  noise. 

Having  once  started,  the  Giblets  were  determined  that 
nothing  should  stop  them  in  their  career  until  they  had  run 
their  full  course  and  arrived  at  the  very  tip-top  of  style. 
Every  tailor,  every  shoemaker,  every  coach-maker,  every 
milliner,  every  mantua-maker,  every  paperhanger,  every 
piano-teacher,  and  every  dancing-master  in  the  city,  were 
enlisted  in  their  service ;  and  the  willing  wights  most  courte- 
ously answered  their  call;  and  fell  to  work  to  build  up  the 
fame  of  the  Giblets,  as  they  had  done  that  of  many  an  aspir- 
ing family  before  them.  In  a  little  time  the  young  ladies 
could  dance  the  waltz,  thunder  Lodoiska,  murder  French, 
kill  time,  and  commit  violence  on  the  face  of  nature  in  a 
landscape  in  water-colors,  equal  to  the  best  lady  in  the  land ; 
and  the  young  gentlemen  were  seen  lounging  at  corners  of 
streets  and  driving  tandem ;  heard  talking  loud  at  the  theater, 
and  laughing  in  church,-  with  as  much  ease,  and  grace,  and 


119 

modesty,  as  if  they  had  been  gentlemen  all  the  days  of  their 
lives. 

And  the  Giblets  arrayed  themselves  in  scarlet,  and  in  fine 
linen,  and  seated  themselves  in  high  places ;  but  nobody  no- 
ticed them  except  to  honor  them  with  a  little  contempt.  The 
Giblets  made  a  prodigious  splash  in  their  own  opinion;  but 
nobody  extolled  them  except  the  tailors  and  the  milliners 
who  had  been  employed  in  manufacturing  their  parapher- 
nalia. The  Giblets  thereupon  being,  like  Caleb  Quotem,  de- 
termined  to  have  "a  place  at  the  review,"  fell  to  work  more 
fiercely  than  ever;  they  gave  dinners,  and  they  gave  balls, 
they  hired  cooks,  they  hired  fiddlers,  they  hired  confection- 
ers ;  and  they  would  have  kept  a  newspaper  in  pay  had  they 
not  been  all  bought  up  at  that  time  for  the  election.  They 
invited  the  dancing-men  and  the  dancing-women,  and  the 
gormandizers,  and  the  epicures  of  the  city,  to  come  and  make 
merry  at  their  expense ;  and  the  dancing-men,  and  the  danc- 
ing-women, and  the  epicures,  and  the  gormandizers,  did  come ; 
and  they  did  make  merry  at  their  expense ;  and  they  eat,  and 
they  drank,  and  they  capered,  and  they  danced,  and  they — 
laughed  at  their  entertainers. 

Then  commenced  the  hurry  and  the  bustle,  and  the  mighty 
nothingness  of  fashionable  life.  Such  rattling  in  coaches !  such 
flaunting  in  the  streets !  such  slamming  of  box-doors  at  the 
theater !  such  a  tempest  of  bustle  and  unmeaning  noise  where- 
ever  they  appeared !  The  Giblets  were  seen  here  and  there 
and  everywhere;  they  visited  everybody  they  knew,  and 
everybody  they  did  not  know;  and  there  was  no  getting 
along  for  the  Giblets.  Their  plan  at  length  succeeded.  By 
dint  of  dinners,  of  feeding  and  frolicking  the  town,  the  Gib- 
let  family  worked  themselves  into  notice,  and  enjoyed  the 
ineffable  pleasure  of  being  forever  pestered  by  visitors  who 
cared  nothing  about  them;  of  being  squeezed,  and  smoth- 
ered, and  parboiled  at  nightly  balls  and  evening  tea-parties. 
They  were  allowed  the  privilege  of  forgetting  the  very  few 
old  friends  they  once  possessed ;  they  turned  their  noses  up 
in  the  wind  at  everything  that  was  not  genteel;  and  their 


120  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ir?$toi) 

superb  manners  and  sublime  affectation  at  length  left  it  no 
longer  a  matter  of  doubt  that  the  Giblets  were  perfectly  in 
style. 


"——Being,  as  it  were,  a  small  contentmente  in  a  never  contenting 
subjecte;  a  bitter  pleasaunte  taste  of  a  sweete  seasoned  sower;  and,  all 
in  all,  a  more  than  ordinarie  rejoycing,  in  an  extraordinarie  sorrow  of 
delyghts."— LINK.  FIDELTUS 

WE  have  been  considerably  edified  of  late  by  several  let- 
ters of  advice  from  a  number  of  sage  correspondents,  who 
really  seem  to  know  more  about  our  work  than  we  do  our- 
selves. One  warns  us  against  saying  anything  more  about 
Snivers,  who  is  a  very  particular  friend  of  the  writer,  and 
who  has  a  singular  disinclination  to  be  laughed  at.  This 
correspondent  in  particular  inveighs  against  personalities, 
and  accuses  us  of  ill  nature  in  bringing  forward  old  Fungus 
and  Billy  Dimple  as  figures  of  fun  to  amuse  the  public. 
Another  gentleman,  who  states  that  he  is  a  near  relation  of 
the  Cocklofts,  proses  away  most  soporifically  on  the  impro- 
priety of  ridiculing  a  respectable  old  family;  and  declares 
that  if  we  make  them  and  their  whim-whams  the  subject  of 
any  more  essays  he  shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  applying 
to  our  theatrical  champions  for  satisfaction.  A  third,  who 
by  the  crabbedness  of  the  handwriting,  and  a  few  careless 
inaccuracies  in  the  spelling,  appears  to  be  a  lady,  assures  us 
that  the  Misses  Cockloft,  and  Miss  Diana  Wearwell,  and 

Miss  Dashaway,  and  Mrs.  ,  "Will  Wizard's  quondam 

flame,  are  so  much  obliged  to  us  for  our  notice  that  they 
intend  in  future  to  take  no  notice  of  us  at  all,  but  leave  us 
out  of  all  their  tea-parties;  for  which  we  make  them  one  of 
our  best  bows,  and  say,  "Thank  you,  ladies." 

We  wish  to  heaven  these  good  people  would  attend  to 
their  own  affairs,  if  they  have  any  to  attend  to,  and  let  us 
alone.  It  is  one  of  the  most  provoking  things  in  the  world 
that  we  cannot  tickle  the  public  a  little,  merely  for  our  own 
private  amusement,  but  we  must  be  crossed  and  jostled  by 


Salma<$ui)di  121 

these  meddling  incendiaries,  and,  in  fact,  have  the  whole 
town  about  our  ears.  We  are  much  in  the  same  situation 
with  an  unlucky  blade  of  a  cockney ;  who,  having  mounted 
his  bit  of  blood  to  enjoy  a  little  innocent  recreation,  and  dis- 
play his  horsemanship  along  Broadway,  is  worried  by  all 
those  little  yelping  curs  that  infest  our  city;  and  who  never 
fail  to  sally  out  and  growl,  and  bark  and  snarl,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  the  Birmingham  equestrian. 

Wisely  was  it  said  by  the  sage  Linkum  Fidelius,  "how- 
beit,  moreover,  nevertheless,  this  thrice  wicked  towne  is 
charged  up  to  the  muzzle  with  all  manner  of  ill-natures  and 
uncharitablenesses,  and  is,  moreover,  exceedinglie  naughte." 
This  passage  of  the  erudite  Linkum  was  applied  to  the  city 
of  Gotham,  of  which  he  was  once  Lord  Mayor,  as  appears  by 
his  picture  hung  up  in  the  hall  of  that  ancient  city ;  but  his 
observation  fits  this  best  of  all  possible  cities  "to  a  hair."  It 
is  a  melancholy  truth  that  this  same  New  York,  though  the 
most  charming,  pleasant,  polished,  and  praiseworthy  city 
under  the  sun,  and,  in  a  word,  the  bonne  bouche  of  the  uni- 
verse, is  most  shockingly  ill-natured  and  sarcastic,  and  wick- 
edly given  to  all  manner  of  backslidings ;  for  which  we  are 
very  sorry  indeed.  In  truth,  for  it  must  come  out  like  murder 
one  time  or  other,  the  inhabitants  are  not  only  ill-natured, 
but  manifestly  unjust :  no  sooner  do  they  get  one  of  our  ran- 
dom sketches  in  their  hands  but  instantly  they  apply  it  most 
unjustifiably  to  some  "dear  friend,"  and  then  accuse  us  vo- 
ciferously of  the  personality  which  originated  in  their  own 
officious  friendship!  Truly  it  is  an  ill-natured  town,  and 
most  earnestly  do  we  hope  it  may  not  meet  with  the  fate  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  of  old. 

As,  however,  it  may  be  thought  incumbent  upon  us  to 
make  some  apology  for  these  mistakes  of  the  town,  and  as 
our  good-nature  is  truly  exemplary,  we  would  certainly  an- 
swer this  expectation  were  it  not  that  we  have  an  invincible 
antipathy  to  making  apologies.  We  have  a  most  profound 
contempt  for  any  man  who  cannot  give  three  good  reasons 
for  an  unreasonable  thing ;  and  will  therefore  condescend,  as 

*  *  *  F  VOL.  V. 


of 

usual,  to  give  the  public  three  special  reasons  for  never  apolo- 
gizing. First,  an  apology  implies  that  we  are  accountable  to 
somebody  or  another  for  our  conduct ;  now  as  we  do  not  care 
a  fiddlestick,  as  authors,  for  either  public  opinion  or  private 
ill-will,  it  would  be  implying  a  falsehood  to  apologize.  Sec- 
ond, an  apology  would  indicate  that  we  had  been  doing  what 
we  ought  not  to  have  done ;  now,  as  we  never  did  nor  ever 
intend  to  do  anything  wrong,  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  make 
an  apology.  Third,  we  labor  under  the  same  incapacity  in  the 
art  of  apologizing  that  lost  Langstaff  his  mistress ;  we  never 
yet  undertook  to  make  apology  without  committing  a  new 
offense,  and  making  matters  ten  times  worse  than  they  were 
before;  and  we  are,  therefore,  determined  to  avoid  such  pre- 
dicaments in  future. 

But  though  we  have  resolved  never  to  apologize,  yet  we 
have  no  particular  objection  to  explain ;  and  if  this  is  all  that's 
wanted  we  will  go  about  it  directly — allons,  gentlemen! — 
before,  however,  we  enter  upon  this  serious  affair,  we  take 
this  opportunity  to  express  our  surprise  and  indignation  at 
the  incredulity  of  some  people.  Have  we  not,  over  and  over, 
assured  the  town  that  we  are  three  of  the  best-natured  fel- 
lows li ving?  And  is  it  not  astonishing  that,  having  already 
given  seven  convincing  proofs  of  the  truth  of  this  assurance, 
they  should  still  have  any  doubts  on  the  subject?  But  as  it 
is  one  of  the  impossible  things  to  make  a  knave  believe  m 
honesty,  so  perhaps  it  may  be  another  to  make  this  most  sar- 
castic, satirical,  and  tea-drinking  city  believe  in  the  existence 
of  good-nature.  But  to  our  explanation:  Gentle  reader!  for 
we  are  convinced  that  none  but  gentle  or  genteel  readers  can 
relish  our  excellent  productions,  if  thou  art  in  expectation  of 
being  perfectly  satisfied  with  what  we  are  about  to  say,  thou 
mayest  as  well  "whistle  lillebullero"  and  skip  quite  over  what 
follows;  for  never  wight  was  more  disappointed  than  thou 
wilt  be  most  assuredly.  But  to  the  explanation :  We  care 
just  as  much  about  the  public  and  its  wise  conjectures  as  we 
do  about  the  man  in  the  moon  and  his  whim-whams,  or  the 
criticisms  of  the  lady  who  sits  majestically  in  her  elbow-chair 


Salma$ui?di  123 

in  the  lobster;  and  who,  belying  her  sex,  as  we  are  credibly 
informed,  never  says  anything  worth  listening  to.  We  have 
launched  our  bark,  and  we  will  steer  to  our  destined  port 
with  undeviating  perseverance,  fearless  of  being  shipwrecked 
by  the  way.  Good-nature  is  our  steersman,  reason  our  bal- 
last, whim  the  breeze  that  wafts  us  along,  and  "morality" 
our  leading  star. 


No.  IX.— SATURDAY,    APRIL   25,    1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

IT  in  some  measure  jumps  with  my  humor  to  be  "melan- 
choly and  gentleman-like"  this  stormy  night,  and  I  see  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  indulge  myself  for  once.  Away, 
then,  with  joke,  with  fun,  and  laughter,  for  a  while ;  let  my 
soul  look  back  in  mournful  retrospect,  and  sadden  with  the 
memory  of  my  good  aunt  "Charity" — who  died  of  a  French- 
man! 

Stare  not,  oh  most  dubious  reader,  at  the  mention  of  a 
complaint  so  uncommon ;  grievously  hath  it  afflicted  the  an- 
cient family  of  the  Cocklofts,  who  carry  their  absurd  antipa- 
thy to  the  French  so  far  that  they  will  not  suffer  a  clove  of 
garlic  hi  the  house :  and  my  good  old  friend  Christopher  was 
once  on  the  point  of  abandoning  his  paternal  country  man- 
sion of  Cockloft  Hall,  merely  because  a  colony  of  frogs  had 
settled  in  a  neighboring  swamp.  I  verily  believe  he  would 
have  carried  his  whim-wham  into  effect  had  not  a  fortunate 
drought  obliged  the  enemy  to  strike  their  tents,  and,  like  a 
troop  of  wandering  Arabs,  to  march  off  toward  a  moister 
part  of  the  country. 

My  aunt  Charity  departed  this  life  in  the  fifty-ninth  year 
of  her  age,  though  she  never  grew  older  after  twenty-five. 
In  her  teens  she  was,  according  to  her  own  account,  a  cele- 
brated beauty — though  I  never  could  meet  with  anybody 


of 

that  remembered  when  she  was  handsome :  on  the  contrary, 
Evergreen's  father,  who  used  to  gallant  her  in  his  youth, 
says  she  was  as  knotty  a  little  piece  of  humanity  as  he  ever 
saw ;  and  that,  if  she  had  been  possessed  of  the  least  sensi- 
bility, she  would,  like  poor  old  Acco,  have  most  certainly 
run  mad  at  her  own  figure  and  face  the  first  time  she  con- 
templated herself  in  a  looking-glass.  In  the  good  old  times 
that  saw  my  aunt  in  the  heyday  of  youth,  a  fine  lady  was  a 
most  formidable  animal,  and  required  to  be  approached  with 
the  same  awe  and  devotion  that  a  Tartar  feels  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  Grand  Lama.  If  a  gentleman  offered  to  take  her 
hand,  except  to  help  her  into  a  carriage  or  lead  her  into  a 
drawing-room,  such  frowns !  such  a  rustling  of  brocade  and 
taffeta !  her  very  paste  shoe-buckles  sparkled  with  indigna- 
tion, and  for  a  moment  assumed  the  brilliancy  of  diamonds. 
In  those  days  the  person  of  a  belle  was  sacred ;  it  was  unpro- 
f aned  by  the  sacrilegious  grasp  of  a  stranger.  Simple  souls ! 
— they  had  not  the  waltz  among  them  yet ! 

My  good  aunt  prided  herself  on  keeping  up  this  buckram 
delicacy;  and  if  she  happened  to  be  playing  at  the  old- 
fashioned  game  of  forfeits,  and  was  fined  a  kiss,  it  was 
always  more  trouble  to  get  it  than  it  was  worth;  for  she 
made  a  most  gallant  defense,  and  never  surrendered  until  she 
saw  her  adversary  inclined  to  give  over  his  attack.  Ever- 
green's father  says  he  remembers  once  to  have  been  on  a 
sleighing  party  with  her,  and  when  they  came  to  Kissing 
Bridge  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  levy  contributions  on  Miss  Charity 
Cockloft;  who,  after  squalling  at  a  hideous  rate,  at  length 
jumped  out  of  the  sleigh  plump  into  a  snow  bank ;  where  she 
stuck  fast  like  an  icicle,  until  he  came  to  her  rescue.  This 
latonian  feat  cost  her  a  rheumatism  which  she  never  thor- 
oughly recovered. 

It  is  rather  singular  that  my  aunt  though  a  great  beauty, 
and  an  heiress  withal,  never  got  married.  The  reason  she  al- 
leged was  that  she  never  met  with  a  lover  who  resembled  Sir 
Charles  Grandison,  the  hero  of  her  nightly  dreams  and  wak- 
ing fancy;  but  I  am  privately  of  opinion  that  it  was  owing 


to  her  never  having  had  an  offer.  This  much  is  certain,  that 
for  many  years  previous  to  her  decease  she  declined  all  at- 
tentions from  the  gentlemen,  and  contented  herself  with 
watching  over  the  welfare  of  her  fellow-creatures.  She  was, 
indeed,  observed  to  take  a  considerable  lean  toward  Method- 
ism, was  frequent  in  her  attendance  at  love  feasts,  read 
Whitfield  and  "Wesley,  and  even  went  so  far  as  once  to  travel 
the  distance  of  five-and-twenty  miles  to  be  present  at  a  camp- 
meeting.  This  gave  great  offense  to  my  cousin  Christopher 
and  his  good  lady,  who,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  are 
rigidly  orthodox ;  and  had  not  my  aunt  Charity  been  of  a 
most  pacific  disposition,  her  religious  whim-wham  would 
have  occasioned  many  a  family  altercation.  She  was,  in- 
deed, as  good  a  soul  as  the  Cockloft  family  ever  boasted ;  a 
lady  of  unbounded  loving-kindness,  which  extended  to  man, 
woman,  and  child;  many  of  whom  she  almost  killed  with 
good-nature.  Was  any  acquaintance  sick?  in  vain  did  the 
wind  whistle  and  the  storm  beat;  my  aunt  would  waddle 
through  mud  and  mire,  over  the  whole  town,  but  what  she 
would  visit  them.  She  would  sit  by  them  for  hours  together 
with  the  most  persevering  patience,  and  tell  a  thousand 
melancholy  stories  of  human  misery  to  keep  up  their  spirits. 
The  whole  catalogue  of  yerb  teas  was  at  her  fingers'  ends, 
from  formidable  wormwood  down  to  gentle  balm;  and  she 
would  descant  by  the  hour  on  the  healing  qualities  of  hoar- 
hound,  catnip,  and  pennyroyal. — Woe  be  to  the  patient  that 
came  under  the  benevolent  hand  of  my  aunt  Charity ;  he  was 
sure,  willy-nilly,  to  be  drenched  with  a  deluge  of  decoctions; 
and  full  many  a  time  has  my  cousin  Christopher  borne  a 
twing  of  pain  in  silence  through  fear  of  being  condemned  to 
suffer  the  martyrdom  of  her  materia  medica.  My  good  aunt 
had,  moreover,  considerable  skill  in  astronomy,  for  she  could 
tell  when  the  sun  rose  and  set  every  day  in  the  year;  and  no 
woman  in  the  whole  world  was  able  to  pronounce,  with  more 
certainty,  at  what  precise  minute  the  moon  changed.  She 
held  the  story  of  the  moon's  being  made  of  green  cheese  as 
an  abominable  slander  on  her  favorite  planet ;  and  she  had 


126  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$toi)  Irulr>$ 

made  several  valuable  discoveries  in  solar  eclipses,  by  means 
of  a  bit  of  burned  glass,  which  entitled  her  at  least  to  an 
honorary  admission  in  the  American  Philosophical  Society. 
Hutching's  improved  was  her  favorite  book ;  and  I  shrewdly 
suspect  that  it  was  from  this  valuable  work  she  drew  most 
of  her  sovereign  remedies  for  colds,  coughs,  corns,  and  con- 
sumptions. 

But  the  truth  must  be  told ;  with  all  her  good  qualities 
my  aunt  Charity  was  afflicted  with  one  fault,  extremely  rare 
among  her  gentle  sex — it  was  curiosity.  How  she  came  by 
it  I  am  at  a  loss  to  imagine,  but  it  played  the  very  vengeance 
with  her  and  destroyed  the  comfort  of  her  life.  Having  an 
invincible  desire  to  know  everybody's  character,  business, 
and  mode  of  living,  she  was  forever  prying  into  the  affairs 
of  her  neighbors ;  and  got  a  great  deal  of  ill-will  from  people 
toward  whom  she  had  the  kindest  disposition  possible.  If 
any  family  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  gave  a  dinner, 
my  aunt  would  mount  her  spectacles  and  sit  at  the  window 
until  the  company  were  all  housed ;  merely  that  she  might 
know  who  they  were.  If  she  heard  a  story  about  any  of  her 
acquaintance,  she  would,  forthwith,  set  off  full  sail  and  never 
rest  until,  to  use  her  usual  expression,  she  had  got  "to  the 
bottom  of  it";  which  meant  nothing  more  than  telling  it  to 
everybody  she  knew. 

I  remember  one  night  my  aunt  Charity  happened  to  hear 
a  most  precious  story  about  one  of  her  good  friends,  but 
unfortunately  too  late  to  give  it  immediate  circulation.  It 
made  her  absolutely  miserable ;  and  she  hardly  slept  a  wink 
all  night,  for  fear  her  bosom  friend,  Mrs.  Sipkins,  should  get 
the  start  of  her  hi  the  morning  and  blow  the  whole  affair. 
You  must  know  there  was  always  a  contest  between  these 
two  ladies  who  should  first  give  currency  to  the  good-nat- 
ured things  said  about  everybody ;  and  this  unfortunate  rival- 
ship  at  length  proved  fatal  to  their  long"  and  ardent  friend- 
ship. My  aunt  got  up  full  two  hours  tnat  morning  before 
her  usual  time;  put  on  her  pompadour  taffeta  gown,  and 
sallied  forth  to  lament  the  misfortune  of  her  dear  friend. 


Would  you  believe  it ! — wherever  she  went  Mrs.  Sipkins  had 
anticipated  her ;  and,  instead  of  being  listened  to  with  uplifted 
hands  and  open-mouthed  wonder,  my  unhappy  aunt  was 
obliged  to  sit  down  quietly  and  listen  to  the  whole  affair, 
with  numerous  additions,  alterations,  and  amendments! — 
now  this  was  too  bad ;  it  would  almost  have  provoked  Patient 
Grizzle  or  a  saint.  It  was  too  much  for  my  aunt,  who  kept 
her  bed  for  three  days  afterward,  with  a  cold,  as  she  pre- 
tended ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  owing  to  this  affair  ot 
Mrs.  Sipkins,  to  whom  she  never  would  be  reconciled. 

But  I  pass  over  the  rest  of  my  aunt  Charity's  life,  checks 
ered  with  the  various  calamities  and  misfortunes  and  mortifi- 
cations incident  to  those  worthy  old  gentlewomen  who  have 
the  domestic  cares  of  the  whole  community  upon  their  minds ; 
and  I  hasten  to  relate  the  melancholy  incident  that  hurried 
her  out  of  existence  in  the  full  bloom  of  antiquated  virginity. 

In  their  frolicksome  malice  the  fates  had  ordered  that  & 
French  boarding-house,  or  Pension  Francaise,  as  it  was 
called,  should  be  established  directly  opposite  my  aunt's 
residence.  Cruel  event !  unhappy  Aunt  Charity !  It  threw 
her  into  that  alarming  disorder  denominated  the  fidgets ;  she 
did  nothing  but  watch  at  the  window  day  after  day,  but 
without  becoming  one  whit  the  wiser  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight 
than  she  was  at  the  beginning;  she  thought  that  neighbor 
Pension  had  a  monstrous  large  family,  and  somehow  or 
other  they  were  all  men !  she  could  not  imagine  what  busi- 
ness neighbor  Pension  followed  to  support  so  numerous  a 
household;  and  wondered  why  there  was  always  such  a 
scraping  of  fiddles  in  the  parlor,  and  such  a  smell  of  onions 
from  neighbor  Pension's  kitchen ;  in  short,  neighbor  Pension 
was  continually  uppermost  in  her  thoughts,  and  incessantly 
on  the  outer  edge  of  her  tongue.  This  was,  I  believe,  the 
very  first  time  she  had  ever  failed  "to  get  at  the  bottom  of  a 
thing";  and  the  disappointment  cost  her  many  a  sleepless 
night,  I  warrant  you.  I  have  little  doubt,  however,  that  my 
aunt  would  have  ferreted  neighbor  Pension  out,  could  she 
have  spoken  or  understood  French ;  but  in  those  times  people 


128  U/ork.8  of  U/asl?ir>$toi) 

in  general  could  make  themselves  understood  in  plain  En- 
glish; and  it  was  always  a  standing  rule  in  the  Cockloft 
family,  which  exists  to  this  day,  that  not  one  of  the  females 
should  learn  French. 

My  aunt  Charity  had  lived,  at  her  window,  for  some  time 
in  vain ;  when  one  day,  as  she  was  keeping  her  usual  look- 
out, and  suffering  all  the  pangs  of  unsatisfied  curiosity,  she 
beheld  a  little,  meager,  weazel-faced  Frenchman,  of  the  most 
forlorn,  diminutive  and  pitiful  proportions  arrive  at  neighbor 
Pension's  door.  He  was  dressed  in  white,  with  a  little 
pinched-up  cocked  hat;  he  seemed  to  shake  in  the  wind,  and 
every  blast  that  went  over  him  whistled  through  his  bones 
and  threatened  instant  annihilation.  This  embodied  spirit 
of  famine  was  followed  by  three  carts,  lumbered  with  crazy 
trunks,  chests,  bandboxes,  bidets,  medicine-chests,  parrots, 
and  monkeys,  and  at  his  heels  ran  a  yelping  pack  of  little 
black-nosed  pug  dogs.  This  was  the  one  thing  wanting  to 
fill  up  the  measure  of  my  aunt  Charity's  afflictions ;  she  could 
not  conceive,  for  the  soul  of  her,  who  this  mysterious  little 
apparition  could  be  that  made  so  great  a  display;  what  he 
could  possibly  do  with  so  much  baggage,  and  particularly  with 
his  parrots  and  monkeys;  or  how  so  small  a  carcass  could 
have  occasion  for  so  many  trunks  of  clothes.  Honest  soul ! 
she  had  never  had  a  peep  into  a  Frenchman's  wardrobe ;  that 
depot  of  old  coats,  hats,  and  breeches  of  the  growth  of  every 
fashion  he  has  followed  in  his  life. 

From  the  time  of  this  fatal  arrival,  my  poor  aunt  was  in 
a  quandary;  all  her  inquiries  were  fruitless,  no  one  could 
expound  the  history  of  this  mysterious  stranger.  She  never 
held  up  her  head  afterward,  drooped  daily,  took  to  her  bed 
in  a  fortnight,  and  in  "one  little  month"  I  saw  her  quietly 
deposited  hi  the  family  vault — being  the  seventh  Cockloft 
that  had  died  of  a  whim-wham ! 

Take  warning,  my  fair  countrywomen!  and  you,  oh,  ye 
excellent  ladies,  whether  married  or  single,  who  pry  into 
other  people's  affairs  and  neglect  those  of  your  own  house- 
hold; who  are  so  busily  employed  in  observing  the  faults  of 


Salma^updl  129 

others  that  you  have  no  time  to  correct  your  own.  Remem- 
ber the  fate  of  my  dear  aunt  Charity,  and  eschew  the  evil 
spirit  of  curiosity. 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

I  FIND,  by  perusal  of  our  last  number,  that  Will  Wizard 
and  Evergreen,  taking  advantage  of  my  confinement,  have 
been  playing  some  of  their  gambols.  I  suspected  these 
rogues  of  some  malpractices  in  consequence  of  their  queer 
looks  and  knowing  winks  whenever  I  came  down  to  dinner ; 
and  of  their  not  showing  their  faces  at  old  Cockloft's  for 
several  days  after  the  appearance  of  their  precious  effusions. 
Whenever  these  two  waggish  fellows  lay  their  heads  to- 
gether there  is  always  sure  to  be  hatched  some  notable  piece 
of  mischief ;  which,  if  it  tickles  nobody  else,  is  sure  to  make 
its  authors  merry.  The  public  will  take  notice  that,  for  the 
purpose  of  teaching  these  my  associates  better  manners,  and 
punishing  them  for  their  high  misdemeanors,  I  have,  by  vir- 
tue of  my  authority,  suspended  them  from  all  interference  in 
"Salmagundi,"  until  they  show  a  proper  degree  of  repentance, 
or  I  get  tired  of  supporting  the  burden  of  the  work  myself. 
I  am  sorry  for  Will,  who  is  already  sufficiently  mortified  ip 
not  daring  to  come  to  the  old  house  and  tell  his  long  stories 
and  smoke  his  cigar;  but  Evergreen,  being  an  old  beau,  may 
solace  himself  in  his  disgrace  by  trimming  up  all  his  old 
finery  and  making  love  to  the  little  girls. 

At  present  my  right-hand  man  is  Cousin  Pindar,  whom  I 
have  taken  into  high  favor.  He  came  home  the  other  night 
all  in  a  blaze  like  a  sky-rocket,  whisked  up  to  his  room  in  a 
paroxysm  of  poetic  inspiration,  nor  did  we  see  anything  of 
him  until  late  the  next  morning,  when  he  bounced  upon  us 
fit  breakfast, 

"Fire  in  each  eye — and  paper  in  each  hand." 

This  is  just  the  way  with  Pindar,  he  is  like  a  volcano , 
will  remain  for  a  long  time  silent  without  emitting  a  single 


130  U/orKs  of  U/a»l?!r)$toi> 

spark,  and  then,  all  at  once,  burst  out  in  a  tremendous  ex- 
plosion of  rhyme  and  rhapsody. 

As  the  letters  of  my  friend  Mustapha  seem  to  excite  con- 
siderable curiosity,  I  have  subjoined  another.  I  do  not  vouch 
for  the  justice  of  his  remarks  or  the  correctness  of  his  con- 
clusions ;  they  are  full  of  the  blunders  and  errors  into  which 
strangers  continually  indulge,  who  pretend  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  this  country  before  they  well  know  the  geography 
of  the  street  in  which  they  live.  The  copies  of  my  friend's 
papers  being  confused  and  without  date,  I  cannot  pretend  to 
give  them  in  systematic  order.  In  fact,  they  seem  now  and 
then  to  treat  of  matters  which  have  occurred  since  his  de- 
parture; whether  these  are  sly  interpolations  of  that  meddle- 
some wight  Will  Wizard,  or  whether  honest  Mustapha  was 
gifted  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy  or  second  sight,  I  neither 
know — nor,  in  fact,  do  I  care.  The  following  seems  to  have 
been  written  when  the  Tripolitan  prisoners  were  so  much 
annoyed  by  the  ragged  state  of  their  wardrobe.  Mustapha 
feelingly  depicts  the  embarrassments  of  his  situation,  traveler- 
like  ;  makes  an  easy  transition  from  his  breeches  to  the  seat 
of  government,  and  incontinently  abuses  the  whole  adminis- 
tration; like  a  sapient  traveler  I  once  knew  who  damned  the 
French  nation  in  toto — because  they  eat  sugar  with  green 
peas. 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KELI 

KHAN, 

CAPTAIN  OF  A  KETCH,  TO  A8EM  HACCHEM,  PRINCIPAL  SLAVE- 
DRIVER  TO  HIS  HIGHNESS  THE  BASHAW  OF  TRIPOLI 

SWEET,  oh,  Asem!  is  the  memory  of  distant  friends!  Like 
the  mellow  ray  of  a  departing  sun  it  falls  tenderly  yet  sadly 
on  the  heart.  Every  hour  of  absence  from  my  native  land 
rolls  heavily  by,  like  the  sandy  wave  of  the  desert ;  and  the 
fair  shores  of  my  country  rise  blooming  to  my  imagination, 


Salma$ui?dl  131 

clothed  in  the  soft,  illusive  charms  of  distance.  I  sigh,  yet 
no  one  listens  to  the  sigh  of  the  captive ;  I  shed  the  bitter 
tear  of  recollection,  but  no  one  sympathizes  in  the  tear  of  the 
turbaned  stranger !  Think  not,  however,  thou  brother  of  my 
soul,  that  I  complain  of  the  horrors  of  my  situation.  Think 
not  that  my  captivity  is  attended  with  the  labors,  the  chains, 
the  scourges,  the  insults,  that  render  slavery  with  us  moo 
dreadful  than  the  pangs  of  hesitating,  lingering  death.  Light, 
indeed,  are  the  restraints  on  the  personal  freedom  of  thy  kins- 
man; but  who  can  enter  into  the  afflictions  of  the  mind? 
who  can  describe  the  agonies  of  the  heart?  They  are  mutable 
as  the  clouds  of  the  air — they  are  as  countless  as  the  waves 
that  divide  me  from  my  native  country. 

I  have  of  late,  my  dear  Asem,  labored  under  an  incon* 
venience  singularly  unfortunate,  and  am  reduced  to  a 
dilemma  most  ridiculously  embarrassing.  Why  should  I 
hide  it  from  the  companion  of  my  thoughts,  the  partner  of 
my  sorrows  and  my  joys?  Alas!  Asem,  thy  friend  Mus- 
tapha,  the  invincible  captain  of  a  ketch,  is  sadly  in  want  of 
a  pair  of  breeches!  Thou  wilt  doubtless  smile,  oh,  most 
grave  Mussulman,  to  hear  me  indulge  in  such  ardent  lam- 
entations about  a  circumstance  so  trivial  and  a  want  ap- 
parently so  easy  to  be  satisfied.  But  little  canst  thou  know 
of  the  mortifications  attending  my  necessities  and  the  astonv 
ishing  difficulty  of  supplying  them.  Honored  by  the  smiles 
and  attentions  of  the  beautiful  ladies  of  this  city,  who  have 
fallen  in  love  with  my  whiskers  and  my  turban ;  courted  by 
the  bashaws  and  the  great  men,  who  delight  to  have  me  at 
their  feasts;  the  honor  of  my  company  eagerly  solicited  by 
every  fiddler  who  gives  a  concert;  think  of  my  chagrin  at 
being  obliged  to  decline  the  host  of  invitations  that  daily 
overwhelm  me,  merely  for  want  of  a  pair  of  breeches !  Oh, 
Allah !  Allah !  that  thy  disciples  could  come  into  the  world 
all  be-feathered  like  a  bantam  or  with  a  pair  of  leather 
breeches  like  the  wild  deer  of  the  forest!  Surely,  my  friend, 
it  is  the  destiny  of  man  to  be  forever  subjected  to  petty  evils ; 
which,  however  trifling  in  appearance,  prey  in  silence  on  hia 


132  U/orl^g  of 

little  pittance  of  enjoyment,  and  poison  those  moments  of 
sunshine  which  might  otherwise  be  consecrated  to  happi- 
ness. 

The  want  of  a  garment,  thou  wilt  say,  is  easily  supplied; 
and  thou  mayest  suppose  need  only  be  mentioned  to  be 
remedied  at  once  by  any  tailor  of  the  land.  Little  canst  thou 
conceive  the  impediments  which  stand  in  the  way  of  my 
comfort;  and  still  less  art  thou  acquainted  with  the  prodig- 
ious great  scale  on  which  everything  is  transacted  in  this 
country.  The  nation  moves  most  majestically  slow  and 
clumsy  in  the  most  trivial  affairs,  like  the  unwieldy  elephant 
which  makes  a  formidable  difficulty  of  picking  up  a  straw ! 
When  I  hinted  my  necessities  to  the  officer  who  has  charge 
of  myself  and  my  companions,  I  expected  to  have  them  forth- 
with relieved ;  but  he  made  an  amazing  long  face,  told  me 
that  we  were  prisoners  of  state,  that  we  must,  therefore,  be 
clothed  at  the  expense  of  government ;  that  as  no  provision 
had  been  made  by  Congress  for  an  emergency  of  the  kind,  it 
was  impossible  to  furnish  me  with  a  pair  of  breeches  until 
all  the  sages  of  the  nation  had  been  convened  to  talk  over  the 
matter  and  debate  upon  the  expediency  of  granting  my  re- 
quest. Sword  of  the  immortal  Khalid,  thought  I,  but  this  is 
great' — this  is  truly  sublime !  All  the  sages  of  an  immense 
logocracy  assembled  together  to  talk  about  my  breeches! 
Vain  mortal  that  I  am ! — I  cannot  but  own  I  was  somewhat 
reconciled  to  the  delay  which  must  necessarily  attend  this 
method  of  clothing  me  by  the  consideration  that  if  they 
made  the  affair  a  national  act,  my  "name  must,  of  course, 
be  embodied  in  history,"  and  myself  and  my  breeches  flourish 
to  immortality  in  the  annals  of  this  mighty  empire ! 

"But,  pray,"  said  I,  "how  does  it  happen  that  a  matter 
so  insignificant  should  be  erected  into  an  object  of  such 
importance  as  to  employ  the  representative  wisdom  of  the 
nation ;  and  what  is  the  cause  of  their  talking  so  much  about 
a  trifle?" — "Oh,"  replied  the  officer  who  acts  as  our  slave- 
driver,  "it  all  proceeds  from  economy.  If  the  government 
did  not  spend  ten  times  as  much  money  in  debating  whether 


133 

ft  was  proper  to  supply  you  with  breeches  as  the  breeches 
themselves  would  cost,  the  people  who  govern  the  bashaw 
and  his  divan  would  straightway  begin  to  complain  of  their 
liberties  being  infringed.  The  national  finances  squandered! 
not  a  hostile  slang-whanger  throughout  the  logocracy  but 
would  burst  forth  like  a  barrel  of  combustion;  and  ten 
chances  to  one  but  the  bashaw  and  the  sages  of  his  divan 
would  all  be  turned  out  of  office  together.  My  good  Mussul- 
man," continued  he,  "the  administration  have  the  good  of 
the  people  too  much  at  heart  to  trifle  with  their  pockets;  and 
they  would  sooner  assemble  and  talk  away  ten  thousand 
dollars  than  expend  fifty  silently  out  of  the  treasury ;  such  is 
the  wonderful  spirit  of  economy  that  pervades  every  branch 
of  this  government." — "But,"  said  I,  "how  is  it  possible 
they  can  spend  money  in  talking;  surely  words  cannot  be 
the  current  coin  of  this  country?" — "Truly,"  cried  he  smiling, 
"your  question  is  pertinent  enough,  for  words  indeed  often 
supply  the  place  of  cash  among  us,  and  many  an  honest  debt 
is  paid  in  promises;  but  the  fact  is,  the  grand  bashaw  and 
the  members  of  Congress,  or  grand-talkers-of-the-nation, 
either  receive  a  yearly  salary  or  are  paid  by  the  day." — "By 
the  nine  hundred  tongues  of  the  great  beast  in  Mahomet's 
vision,  but  the  murder  is  out.  It  is  no  wonder  these  honest 
men  talk  so  much  about  nothing,  when  they  are  paid  for 
talking,  like  day  laborers." — "You  are  mistaken,"  said  my 
driver,  "it  is  nothing  but  economy  1" 

I  remained  silent  for  some  minutes,  for  this  inexplicable 
word  economy  always  discomfits  me;  and  when  I  flatter 
myself  I  have  grasped  it,  it  slips  through  my  fingers  like  a 
jack-o'-lantern.  I  have  not,  nor  perhaps  ever  shall  acquire, 
sufficient  of  the  philosophic  policy  of  this  government,  to 
draw  a  proper  distinction  between  an  individual  and  a  nation. 
If  a  man  was  to  throw  away  a  pound  in  order  to  save  a  beg- 
garly penny,  and  boast,  at  the  same  time,  of  his  economy,  I 
should  think  him  on  a  par  with  the  fool  in  the  fable  of 
Alfanji,  who,  in  skinning  a  flint  worth  a  farthing,  spoiled 
a  knife  worth  fifty  tunes  the  sum  and  thought  he  had  acted 


134  U/or^s  of 


•wisely.  The  shrewd  fellow  would  doubtless  have  valued 
himself  much  more  highly  on  his  economy  could  he  have 
known  that  his  example  would  one  day  be  followed  by  the 
bashaw  of  America  and  the  sages  of  his  divan. 

This  economic  disposition,  my  friend,  occasions  much 
fighting  of  the  spirit  and  innumerable  contests  of  the  tongue 
in  this  talking  assembly.  —  Wouldst  thou  believe  it?  they 
were  actually  employed  for  a  whole  week  in  a  most  strenuous 
and  eloquent  debate  about  patching  up  a  hole  in  the  wall  of 
the  room  appropriated  to  their  meetings  !  A  vast  profusion 
of  nervous  argument  and  pompous  declamation  was  expended 
on  the  occasion.  Some  of  the  orators,  I  am  told,  being  rather 
waggishly  inclined,  were  most  stupidly  jocular  on  the  occa- 
sion ;  but  their  waggery  gave  great  offense,  and  was  highly 
reprobated  by  the  more  weighty  part  of  the  assembly  ;  who 
hold  all  wit  and  humor  in  abomination,  and  thought  the 
business  in  hand  much  too  solemn  and  serious  to  be  treated 
lightly.  It  is  supposed  by  some  that  this  affair  would  have 
occupied  a  whole  winter,  as  it  was  a  subject  upon  which 
several  gentlemen  spoke  who  had  never  been  known  to  open 
their  lips  in  that  place  except  to  say  yes  and  no.  These  silent 
members  are  by  way  of  distinction  denominated  orator 
mums,  and  are  highly  valued  in  this  country  on  account  of 
their  great  talents  for  silence  ;  a  qualification  extremely  rare 
in  a  logocracy. 

Fortunately  for  the  public  tranquillity,  in  the  hottest  part 
of  the  debate,  when  two  rampant  Virginians,  brimful  of 
logic  and  philosophy  w^ere  measuring  tongues,  and  syllogist- 
ically  cudgeling  each  other  out  of  their  unreasonable  notions, 
the  president  of  the  divan,  a  knowing  old  gentleman,  one 
night  slyly  sent  a  mason  with  a  hod  of  mortar,  who,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  minutes,  closed  up  the  hole  and  put  a  final 
end  to  the  argument.  Thus  did  this  wise  old  gentleman,  by 
hitting  on  a  most  simple  expedient,  in  all  probability  save  his 
country  as  much  money  as  would  build  a  gunboat  or  pay  a 
hireling  slang-  whanger  for  a  whole  volume  of  words.  As  it 
happened,  only  a  few  thousand  dollars  were  expended  in 


Salma$ui?di  135 

paying  these  men,  who  are  denominated,  I  suppose  in  de- 
rision, legislators. 

Another  instance  of  their  economy  I  relate  with  pleasure, 
for  I  really  begin  to  feel  a  regard  for  these  poor  barbarians. 
They  talked  away  the  best  part  of  a  whole  whiter  before  they 
could  determine  not  to  expend  a  few  dollars  in  purchasing  a 
sword  to  bestow  on  an  illustrious  warrior.  Yes,  Asem,  on 
that  very  hero  who  frightened  all  our  poor  old  women  and 
young  children  at  Derne,  and  fully  proved  himself  a  greater 
man  than  the  mother  that  bore  him.  Thus,  my  friend,  is  the 
whole  collective  wisdom  of  this  mighty  logocracy  employed 
in  somniferous  debates  about  the  most  trivial  affairs;  like  I 
have  sometimes  seen  a  herculean  mountebank  exerting  all 
his  energies  hi  balancing  a  straw  upon  his  nose.  Their  sages 
behold  the  minutest  object  with  the  microscopic  eyes  of  a 
pismire;  mole-hills  swell  into  mountains,  and  a  gram  of 
mustard-seed  will  set  the  whole  ant-hill  in  a  hubbub. 
Whether  this  indicates  a  capacious  vision,  or  a  diminutive 
mind,  I  leave  thee  to  decide;  for  my  part,  I  consider  it  as 
another  proof  of  the  great  scale  on  which  everything  is 
transacted  in  this  country. 

I  have  before  told  thee  that  nothing  can  be  done  without 
consulting  the  sages  of  the  nation,  who  compose  the  assembly 
called  the  Congress.  This  prolific  body  may  not  improperly 
be  termed  the  "mother  of  inventions";  and  a  most  fruitful 
mother  it  is,  let  me  tell  thee,  though  its  children  are  generaDy 
abortions.  It  has  lately  labored  with  what  was  deemed  the 
conception  of  a  mighty  navy. — All  the  old  women  and  the 
good  wives  that  assist  the  bashaw  in  his  emergencies  hurried 
to  headquarters  to  be  busy,  like  midwives,  at  the  delivery. — 
All  was  anxiety,  fidgeting,  and  consultation;  when,  after 
a  deal  of  groaning  and  struggling,  instead  of  formidable  first- 
rates  and  gallant  frigates,  out  crept  a  litter  of  sorry  little 
gunboats!  These  are  most  pitiful  little  vessels,  partaking 
vastly  of  the  character  of  the  grand  bashaw,  who  has  the 
credit  of  begetting  them :  being  flat,  shallow  vessels  that  can 
only  sail  before  the  wind ;  must  always  keep  in  with  the  land; 


136  U/orl{8  of  U/asl?iQ(}toi) 

are  continually  foundering  or  running  ashore;  and,  in  short, 
are  only  fit  for  smooth  water.  Though  intended  for  the  de- 
fense of  the  maritime  cities,  yet  the  cities  are  obliged  to 
defend  them ;  and  they  require  as  much  nursing  as  so  many 
rickety  little  bantlings.  They  are,  however,  the  darling 
pets  of  the  grand  bashaw,  being  the  children  of  his  dotage, 
and,  perhaps  from  their  diminutive  size  and  palpable  weak- 
ness, are  called  the  "infant  navy  of  America."  The  act 
that  brought  them  into  existence  was  almost  deified  by  the 
majority  of  the  people  as  a  grand  stroke  of  economy. — By 
the  beard  of  Mahomet,  but  this  word  is  truly  inexplicable! 

To  this  economic  body,  therefore,  was  I  advised  to  address 
my  petition,  and  humbly  to  pray  that  the  august  assembly  of 
sages  would,  in  the  plenitude  of  their  wisdom  and  the  magni- 
tude of  their  powers,  munificently  bestow  on  an  unfortunate 
captive  a  pair  of  cotton  breeches!  "Head  of  the  immortal 
Amrou,"  cried  I,  "but  this  would  be  presumptuous  to  a 
degree.  "What!  after  these  worthies  have  thought  proper  to 
leave  their  country  naked  and  defenseless,  and  exposed  to  all 
the  political  storms  that  rattle  without,  can  I  expect  that 
they  will  lend  a  helping  hand  to  comfort  the  extremities  of 
a  solitary  captive?"  My  exclamation  was  only  answered  by 
a  smile,  and  I  was  consoled  by  the  assurance  that,  so  far 
from  being  neglected,  it  was  every  way  probable  my  breeches 
might  occupy  a  whole  session  of  the  divan  and  set  several  of 
the  longest  heads  together  by  the  ears.  Flattering  as  was 
the  idea  of  a  whole  nation  being  agitated  about  my  breeches, 
yet  I  own  I  was  somewhat  dismayed  at  the  idea  of  remaining 
in  querpOy  until  all  the  national  gray-beards  should  hav* 
made  a  speech  on  the  occasion  and  given  their  consent  to  the 
measure.  The  embarrassment  and  distress  of  mind  which  I 
experienced  was  visible  in  my  countenance,  and  my  guard, 
who  is  a  man  of  infinite  good-nature,  immediately  suggested, 
as  a  more  expeditious  plan  of  supplying  my  wants — a  benefit 
at  the  theater.  Though  profoundly  ignorant  of  his  meaning, 
I  agreed  to  his  proposition,  the  result  of  which  I  shall  dis- 
close to  thee  hi  another  letter. 


137 

Fare  thee  well,  dear  Asem.  In  thy  pious  prayers  to  our 
great  prophet  never  forget  to  solicit  thy  friend's  return;  and 
when  thou  numberest  up  the  many  blessings  bestowed  on 
thee  by  all-bountiful  Allah,  pour  forth  thy  gratitude  that  he 
has  cast  thy  nativity  in  a  land  where  there  is  no  assembly 
of  legislative  chatterers;  no  great  bashaw,  who  bestrides  a 
gunboat  for  a  hobby-horse ;  where  the  word  economy  is  un- 
known ;  and  where  an  unfortunate  captive  is  not  obliged  to 
call  upon  the  whole  nation  to  cut  him  out  a  pair  of  breeches. 
Ever  thine,  MuSTAPHA. 


FROM  THE  MILL  OF    PINDAR    COCKLOFT,  ESQ. 

THOUGH  enter'd  on  that  sober  age, 
When  men  withdraw  from  fashion  *s  stage, 
And  leave  the  follies  of  the  day 
To  shape  their  course  a  graver  way; 
Still  those  gay  scenes  I  loiter  round, 
In  which  my  youth  sweet  transport  found  i 
And  though  I  feel  their  joys  decay, 
And  languish  every  hour  away — 
Yet  like  an  exile  doom'd  to  part, 
From  the  dear  country  of  his  heart, 
From  the  fair  spot  in  which  he  sprung, 
Where  his  first  notes  of  love  were  sung, 
Will  often  turn  to  wave  the  hand, 
And  sigh  his  blessings  on  the  land; 
Just  so  my  lingering  watch  I  keep — 
Thus  oft  I  take  my  farewell  peep. 

And,  like  that  pilgrim  who  retreats. 
Thus  lagging  from  his  parent  seats, 
When  the  sad  thought  pervades  his  mind) 
That  the  fair  land  he  leaves  behind 
Is  ravaged  by  a  foreign  foe, 
Its  cities  waste,  its  temples  low, 


138  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ir?$toi) 

And  ruined  all  those  haunts  of  joy 
That  gave  him  rapture  when  a  boy; 
Turns  from  it  with  averted  eye, 
And  while  he  heaves  the  anguish'd  sigh* 
Scarce  feels  regret  that  the  loved  shore 
Shall  beam  upon  his  sight  no  more; — 
Just  so  it  grieves  my  soul  to  view, 
While  breathing  forth  a  fond  adieu, 
The  innovations  pride  has  made, 
The  fustian,  frippery,  and  parade, 
That  now  usurp  with  mawkish  grace 
Pure  tranquil  pleasure's  wonted  place! 

'Twas  joy  we  look'd  for  in  my  prune, 
That  idol  of  the  olden  time ; 
When  all  our  pastimes  had  the  art 
To  please,  and  not  mislead,  the  heart. 
Style  curs'd  us  not — that  modern  flash, 
That  love  of  racket  and  of  trash; 
Which  scares  at  once  all  feeling  joys, 
And  drowns  delight  in  empty  noise; 
Which  barters  friendship,  mirth,  and  truth, 
The  artless  air,  the  bloom  of  youth, 
And  all  those  gentle  sweets  that  swarm 
Round  nature  in  her  simplest  form, 
For  cold  display,  for  hollow  state, 
The  trappings  of  the  would  be  great. 

Oh !  once  again  those  days  recall, 
When  heart  met  heart  in  fashion's  hall; 
When  every  honest  guest  would  flock 
To  add  his  pleasure  to  the  stock, 
More  fond  his  transports  to  express, 
Than  show  the  tinsel  of  his  dress ! 
These  were  the  times  that  clasp'd  the  soul 
In  gentle  friendship's  soft  control; 
Our  fair  ones,  unprofan'd  by  art, 
Content  to  gain  one  honest  heart, 
No  train  of  sighing  swains  desired, 


Salma$ui?di  139 

Sought  to  be  loved  and  not  admired. 
But  now  'tis  form,  not  love  unites; 
'Tis  show,  not  pleasure,  that  invites. 
Each  seeks  the  ball  to  play  the  queen, 
To  flirt,  to  conquer,  to  be  seen ; 
Each  grasps  at  universal  sway, 
And  reigns  the  idol  of  the  day ; 
Exults  amid  a  thousand  sighs, 
And  triumphs  when  a  lover  dies. 
Each  belle  a  rival  belle  surveys, 
Like  deadly  foe  with  hostile  gaze; 
Nor  can  her  "dearest  friend"  caress, 
Till  she  has  slyly  scann'd  her  dress; 
Ten  conquests  in  one  year  will  make, 
And  six  eternal  friendships  break! 

How  oft  I  breathe  the  inward  sigh, 
And  feel  the  dewdrop  in  my  eye, 
When  I  behold  some  beauteous  frame, 
Divine  in  everything  but  name, 
Just  venturing,  in  the  tender  age, 
On  fashion's  late  new-fangled  stage! 
Where  soon  the  guiltless  heart  shall  cease 
To  beat  in  artlessness  and  peace ; 
Where  all  the  flowers  of  gay  delight 
With  which  youth  decks  its  prospects  bright 
Shall  wither  'mid  the  cares,  the  strife, 
The  cold  realities  of  life ! 

Thus  lately,  in  my  careless  mood, 
As  I  the  world  of  fashion  view'd 
While  celebrating  great  and  small 
That  grand  solemnity,  a  ball, 
My  roving  vision  chanced  to  light 
On  two  sweet  forms,  divinely  bright; 
Two  sister  nymphs,  alike  in  face, 
In  mien,  in  loveliness,  and  grace ; 
Twin  rosebuds,  bursting  into  bloom, 
In  all  their  brilliance  and  perfume : 


140  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir7$toi? 

Like  those  fair  forms  that  often  beam 
Upon  the  Eastern  poet's  dream ! 
For  Eden  had  each  lovely  maid 
In  native  innocence  arrayed — 
And  heaven  itself  had  almost  shed 
Its  sacred  halo  round  each  head ! 

They  seem'd,  just  entering  hand  in  hand? 
To  cautious  tread  this  fairyland ; 
To  take  a  timid,  hasty  view, 
Enchanted  with  a  scene  so  new. 
The  modest  blush,  untaught  by  art, 
Bespoke  their  purity  of  heart; 
And  every  timorous  act  unfurl'd 
Two  souls  unspotted  by  the  world. 

Oh,  how  these  strangers  joy'd  my  sight, 
And  thrill' d  my  bosom  with  delight! 
They  brought  the  visions  of  my  youth 
Back  to  my  soul  in  all  their  truth ; 
RecalPd  fair  spirits  into  day, 
That  time's  rough  hand  had  swept  awayj 
Thus  the  bright  natives  from  above, 
Who  come  on  messages  of  love, 
"Will  bless,  at  rare  and  distant  whiles, 
Our  sinful  dwelling  by  their  smiles ! 

Oh !  my  romance  of  youth  is  past, 
Dear  airy  dreams  too  bright  to  last! 
Yet  when  such  forms  as  these  appear, 
I  feel  your  soft  remembrance  here ; 
For,  ah !  the  simple  poet's  heart, 
On  which  fond  love  once  play'd  its  part, 
Still  feels  the  soft  pulsations  beat, 
As  loth  to  quit  their  former  seat. 
Just  like  the  harp's  melodious  wire, 
Swept  by  a  bard  with  heavenly  fire, 
Though  ceased  the  loudly  swelling  strain 
Yet  sweet  vibrations  long  remain. 

Full  soon  I  found  the  lovely  pair 


Salma$ui?di  141 

Had  sprung  beneath  a  mother's  care, 
Hard  by  a  neighboring  streamlet's  side, 
At  once  its  ornament  and  pride. 
The  beauteous  parent's  tender  heart 
Had  well  fulfill'd  its  pious  part; 
And,  like  the  holy  man  of  old, 
As  we're  by  sacred  writings  told, 
Who,  when  he  from  his  pupil  sped, 
Pour'd  twofold  blessings  on  his  head.— 
So  this  fond  mother  had  imprest 
Her  early  virtues  in  each  breast, 
And  as  she  found  her  stock  enlarge, 
Had  stamped  new  graces  on  her  charge. 

The  fair  resign 'd  the  calm  retreat, 
Where  first  their  souls  in  concert  beat, 
And  flew  on  expectation's  whig, 
To  sip  the  joys  of  life's  gay  spring; 
To  sport  in  fashion's  splendid  maze, 
Where  friendship  fades  and  love  decays. 
So  two  sweet  wild  flowers,  near  the  side 
Of  some  fair  river's  silver  tide, 
Pure  as  the  gentle  stream  that  laves 
The  green  banks  with  its  lucid  waves, 
Bloom  beauteous  in  their  native  ground, 
Diffusing  heavenly  fragrance  round; 
But  should  a  venturous  hand  transfer 
These  blossoms  to  the  gay  parterre, 
Where,  spite  of  artificial  aid, 
The  fairest  plants  of  nature  fade, 
Though  they  may  shine  supreme  a  while 
'Mid  pale  ones  of  the  stranger  soil, 
The  tender  beauties  soon  decay, 
And  their  sweet  fragrance  dies  away. 

Blest  spirits!  who,  enthroned  in  air, 
Watch  o'er  the  virtues  of  the  fair, 
And  with  angelic  ken  survey 
Their  windings  through  life's  checker'd  way! 


U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii}$toi> 

Who  hover  round  them  as  they  glide 

Down  fashion's  smooth,  deceitful  tide, 

And  guide  them  o'er  that  stormy  deep 

Where  dissipation's  tempests  sweep : 

Oh,  make  this  inexperienced  pair 

The  objects  of  your  tenderest  care. 

Preserve  them  from  the  languid  eye, 

The  faded  cheek,  the  long  drawn  sigh; 

And  let  it  be  your  constant  aim 

To  keep  the  fair  ones  still  the  same : 

Two  sister  hearts,  unsullied,  bright 

As  the  first  beam  of  lucid  light 

That  sparkled  from  the  youthful  sun, 

When  first  his  jocund  race  begun. 

So  when  these  hearts  shall  burst  their  shrine, 

To  whig  their  flight  to  realms  divine, 

They  may  to  radiant  mansions  rise 

Pure  as  when  first  they  left  the  skies. 


No.  X.— SATURDAY,    MAY    16,   1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

THE  long  interval  which  has  elapsed  since  the  publication 
of  our  last  number,  like  many  other  remarkable  events,  has 
given  rise  to  much  conjecture  and  excited  considerable  solici- 
tude. It  is  but  a  day  or  two  since  I  heard  a  knowing  young 
gentleman  observe  that  he  suspected  "Salmagundi"  would 
be  a  nine  day's  wonder,  and  had  even  prophesied  that  the 
ninth  would  be  our  last  effort.  But  the  age  of  prophecy,  as 
well  as  that  of  chivalry,  is  past;  and  no  reasonable  man 
should  now  venture  to  foretell  aught  but  what  he  is  deter- 
mined to  bring  about  himself.  He  may  then,  if  he  please, 
monopolize  prediction,  and  be  honored  as  a  prophet  even  in 
his  own  country. 


Salma$ui?di  143 

Though  I  hold  whether  we  write,  or  not  write,  to  be  none 
of  the  public's  business,  yet  as  I  have  just  heard  of  the  loss 
of  three  thousand  votes  at  least  to  the  Clintonians,  I  feel  in 
a  remarkable  dulcet  humor  thereupon,  and  will  give  some 
account  of  the  reasons  which  induced  us  to  resume  our  useful 
labors — or  rather  our  amusement ;  for,  if  writing  cost  either 
of  us  a  moment's  labor,  there  is  not  a  man  but  what  would 
hang  up  his  pen,  to  the  great  detriment  of  the  world  at  large, 
and  of  our  publisher  in  particular ;  who  has  actually  bought 
himself  a  pair  of  trunk  breeches  with  the  profits  of  our 
writings ! ! 

He  informs  me  that  several  persons  having  called  last 
Saturday  for  No.  X.,  took  the  disappointment  so  much  to 
heart  that  he  really  apprehended  some  terrible  catastrophe ; 
and  one  good-looking  man,  in  particular,  declared  his  inten- 
tion of  quitting  the  country  if  the  work  was  not  continued. 
Add  to  this,  the  town  has  grown  quite  melancholy  in  the 
last  fortnight;  and  several  young  ladies  have  declared,  in 
my  hearing,  that  if  another  number  did  not  make  its  appear- 
ance soon  they  would  be  obliged  to  amuse  themselves  with 
teasing  their  beaux  and  making  them  miserable.  Now  I 
assure  my  readers  there  was  no  flattery  in  this,  for  they  no 
more  suspected  me  of  being  Launcelot  Langstaff  than  they 
suspected  me  of  being  the  Emperor  of  China,  or  the  man  in 
the  moon. 

• 

I  have  also  received  several  letters  complaining  of  our 
indolent  procrastination;  and  one  of  my  correspondents  as- 
sures me  that  a  number  of  young  gentlemen,  who  had  not 
read  a  book  through  since  they  left  school,  but  who  have 
taken  a  wonderful  liking  to  OUT  paper,  will  certainly  relapse 
into  their  old  habits  unless  we  go  on. 

For  the  sake,  therefore,  of  all  these  good  people,  and  most 
especially  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  ladies,  every  one  of 
whom  we  would  love  if  we  possibly  could,  I  have  again 
wielded  my  pen  with  a  most  hearty  determination  to  set  the 
whole  world  to  rights ;  to  make  cherubims  and  seraphs  of  all 
the  fair  ones  of  this  enchanting  town,  and  raise  the  spirits 


144  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii}$toi) 

of  the  poor  Federalists,  who,  in  truth,  seem  to  be  in  a  sad 
taking,  ever  since  the  American  ticket  met  with  the  accident 
of  being  so  unhappily  thrown  out. 


TO   LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF,  ESQ. 

SIR — I  felt  myself  hurt  and  offended  by  Mr.  Evergreen's 
terrible  philippic  against  modern  music,  in  No.  II.  of  your 
work,  and  was  under  serious  apprehension  that  his  strictures 
might  bring  the  art,  which  I  have  the  honor  to  profess,  into 
contempt.  The  opinion  of  yourself  and  fraternity  appear  in- 
deed to  have  a  wonderful  effect  upon  the  town. — I  am  told 
the  ladies  are  all  employed  in  reading  Bunyan  and  Pamela, 
and  the  waltz  has  been  entirely  forsaken  ever  since  the  win- 
ter balls  have  closed.  Under  these  apprehensions  I  should 
have  addressed  you  before  had  I  not  been  sedulously  em- 
ployed, while  the  theater  continued  open,  in  supporting  the 
astonishing  variety  of  the  orchestra,  and  in  composing  a  new 
chime  or  Bob-Major  for  Trinity  Church,  to  be  rung  during 
the  summer,  beginning  with  ding-dong  di-do,  instead  of  di-do 
ding-dong.  The  citizens,  especially  those  who  live  in  the 
neighborhood  of  that  harmonious  quarter,  will,  no  doubt,  be 
infinitely  delighted  with  this  novelty. 

But  to  the  object  of  this  communication.  So  far,  sir, 
from  agreeing  with  Mr.  Evergreen  in  thinking  that  all  mod- 
ern music  is  but  the  mere  dregs  and  drainings  of  the  ancient, 
I  trust,  before  this  letter  is  concluded,  I  shall  convince  you 
and  him  that  some  of  the  late  professors  of  this  enchanting 
art  have  completely  distanced  the  paltry  efforts  of  the  an- 
cients ;  and  that  I,  in  particular,  have  at  length  brought  it 
almost  to  absolute  perfection. 

The  Greeks,  simple  souls!  were  astonished  at  the  powers 
of  Orpheus,  who  made  the  woods  and  rocks  dance  to  his  lyre; 
of  Amphion,  who  converted  crotchets  into  bricks,  and  quav- 
ers into  mortar ;  and  of  Arion,  who  won  upon  the  compassion 


145 

of  the  fishes.  In  the  fervency  of  admiration,  their  poets 
fabled  that  Apollo  had  lent  them  his  lyre,  and  inspired  them 
with  his  own  spirit  of  harmony.  What  then  would  they 
have  said  had  they  witnessed  the  wonderful  effects  of  my 
skill?  Had  they  heard  me,  in  the  compass  of  a  single  piece, 
describe  in  glowing  notes  one  of  the  most  sublime  operations 
of  nature ;  and  not  only  make  inanimate  objects  dance,  but 
even  speak ;  and  not  only  speak,  but  speak  in  strains  of  ex- 
quisite harmony? 

Let  me  not,  however,  be  understood  to  say  that  I  am  the 
sole  author  of  this  extraordinary  improvement  in  the  art,  for 
I  confess  I  took  the  hint  of  many  of  my  discoveries  from  some 
of  those  meritorious  productions  that  have  lately  come  abroad 
and  made  so  much  noise  under  the  title  of  overtures.  From 
some  of  these,  as,  for  instance,  Lodoiska,  and  the  battle  of 
Marengo,  a  gentleman,  or  a  captain  in  the  city  militia,  or  an 
Amazonian  young  lady,  may  indeed  acquire  a  tolerable  idea 
of  military  tactics,  and  become  very  well  experienced  hi  the 
firing  of  musketry,  the  roaring  of  cannon,  the  rattling  of 
drums,  the  whistling  of  fifes,  braying  of  trumpets,  groans 
of  the  dying,  and  trampling  of  cavalry,  without  ever  going 
to  the  wars ;  but  it  is  more  especially  in  the  art  of  imitating 
inimitable  things,  and  giving  the  language  01  every  passion 
and  sentiment  of  the  human  mind,  so  as  entirely  to  do  away 
the  necessity  of  speech,  that  I  particularly  excel  the  most 
celebrated  musicians  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 

I  think,  sir,  I  may  venture  to  say  there  is  not  a  sound  in 
the  whole  compass  of  nature  which  I  cannot  imitate,  and 
even  improve  upon;  nay,  what  I  consider  the  perfection  of 
my  art,  I  have  discovered  a  method  of  expressing,  in  the 
most  striking  manner,  that  undefinable,  indescribable  silence 
which  accompanies  the  falling  of  snow. 

In  order  to  prove  to  you  that  I  do  not  arrogate  to  myself 
what  I  am  unable  to  perform,  1  will  detail  to  you  the  differ- 
ent movements  of  a  grand  piece  which  I  pride  myself  upon 
exceedingly,  called  the  "Breaking  up  of  the  Ice  in  the  North 
River." 

*  *  *  G  VOL.  V. 


146  U/orks  of  U/a8l?ir)$too  Iruli)? 

The  piece  opens  with  a  gentle  andante  affetuosso,  which 
ushers  you  into  the  assembly-room  in  the  state-house  at  Al- 
bany, where  the  speaker  addresses  his  farewell  speech,  in- 
forming the  members  that  the  ice  is  about  breaking  up,  and 
thanking  them  for  their  great  services  and  good  behavior  in 
a  manner  so  pathetic  as  to  bring  tears  into  their  eyes. — Flour- 
ish of  Jack-a-donkeys. — Ice  cracks — Albany  in  a  hubbub; 
air,  "Three  children  sliding  on  the  ice,  all  on  a  summer's 
day."  —  Citizens  quarreling  in  Dutch;  —  chorus  of  a  tin 
trumpet,  a  cracked  fiddle,  and  a  hand-saw! — allegro  mod- 
erato. — Hard  frost — this,  if  given  with  proper  spirit,  has  a 
charming  effect,  and  sets  everybody's  teeth  chattering. — 
Symptoms  of  snow — consultation  of  old  women  who  com- 
plain of  pains  hi  the  bones  and  rheumatics;  air,  "There 
was  an  old  woman  tossed  up  in  a  blanket,"  etc. — allegro 
staccato;  wagon  breaks  into  the  ice — people  all  run  to  see 
what  is  the  matter;  air,  siciliano,  "Can  you  row  the  boat 
ashore,  Billy  boy,  Billy  boy?"  —  andant e; — frost  fish  froze  up 
in  the  ice;  air,  "Ho,  why  dost  thou  shiver  and  shake,  Gaffer 
Gray,  and  why  does  thy  nose  look  so  blue?" — Flourish  of 
twopenny  trumpets  and  rattles — consultation  of  the  North 
River  Society — determine  to  set  the  North  River  on  fire  as 
soon  as  it  will  burn;  air,  "Oh,  what  a  fine  kettle  of  fish." 

PART  II. — Great  Thaw. — This  consists  of  the  most  melt- 
ing strains,  flowing  so  smoothly  as  to  occasion  a  great  over- 
flowing of  scientific  rapture;  air,  "One  misty  moisty  morn- 
ing." The  House  of  Assembly  breaks  up;  air,  "The  owls 
came  out  and  flew  about." — Assemblymen  embark  on  their 
way  to  New  York;  air,  "The  ducks  and  the  geese  they  all 
swim  over,  fal,  de  ral,"  etc  — Vessel  sets  sail — chorus  of 
mariners — "Steer  her  up,  and  let  her  gang."  After  this  a 
rapid  movement  conducts  you  to  New  York — the  North 
River  Society  hold  a  meeting  at  the  corner  of  Wall  Street, 
and  determine  to  delay  burning  till  all  the  assemblymen 
are  safe  home,  for  fear  of  consuming  some  of  their  own 
members  who  belong  to  that  respectable  body.  Return  again 
to  the  capital. — Ice  floats  down  the  river — lamentation  of 


5alma$ur?dl  147 

skaters;  air,  affetuosso,  "I  sigh  and  lament  me  in  vain," 
etc. — Albanians  cutting  up  sturgeon;  air,  "Oh,  the  roast- 
beef  of  Albany." — Ice  runs  against  Polopoy's  island,  with  a 
terrible  crash. — This  is  represented  by  a  fierce  fellow  travel- 
ing with  his  fiddlestick  over  a  huge  bassviol,  at  the  rate  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  bars  a  minute,  and  tearing  the  music 
to  rags — this  being  what  is  called  execution. — The  great 
body  of  ice  passes  West  Point,  and  is  saluted  by  three  or 
four  dismounted  cannon  from  Fort  Putnam. — "Jefferson's 
March"  by  a  full  band;  air,  "Yankee  Doodle,"  with  seventy- 
six  variations,  never  before  attempted,  except  by  the  cele- 
brated eagle  which  flutters  his  wings  over  the  copper-bot- 
tomed angel  at  Messrs.  Paff's  in  Broadway.  Ice  passes  New 
York  —  conch-shell  sounds  at  a  distance — ferrymen  call 
o-v-e-r — people  run  down  Cortlandt  Street — ferryboat  sets 
sail;  air,  accompanied  by  the  conch-shell,  "We'll  all  go 
over  the  ferry." — Rondeau — giving  a  particular  account  of 
Brom  the  Powles  Hook  admiral,  who  is  supposed  to  be  closely 
connected  with  the  North  River  Society. — The  society  make 
a  grand  attempt  to  fire  the  stream,  but  are  utterly  defeated 
by  a  remarkable  high  tide,  which  brings  the  plot  to  light; 
drowns  upward  of  a  thousand  rats,  and  occasions  twenty- 
robins  to  break  their  necks.* — Society  not  being  discour- 
aged, apply  to  "Common  Sense,"  for  his  lantern;  air, 
"Nose,  nose,  jolly  red  nose."  Flock  of  wild  geese  fly  over 
the  city — old  wives  chatter  in  the  fog — cocks  crow  at  Com- 
munipaw — drums  beat  on  Governor's  Island. — The  whole  to 
conclude  with  the  blowing  up  of  Sand's  powder-house. 

Thus,  sir,  you  perceive  what  wonderful  powers  of  expres- 
sion have  been  hitherto  locked  up  in  this  enchanting  art.  A 
whole  history  is  here  told  without  the  aid  of  speech  or  writ- 
ing; and  provided  the  hearer  is  in  the  least  acquainted  with 
music,  he  cannot  mistake  a  single  note.  As  to  the  blowing 
up  of  the  powder-house,  I  look  upon  it  as  a  chef  d'ouvre, 
which  I  am  confident  will  delight  all  modern  amateurs,  who 

*  Vide  Solomon  Lang. 


148  U/orl^s  of  U7a8l?ii?$toi) 

very  properly  estimate  music  in  proportion  to  the  noise  it 
makes,  and  delight  in  thundering  cannon  and  earthquakes. 

I  must  confess,  however,  it  is  a  difficult  part  to  manage, 
and  I  have  already  broken  six  pianos  in  giving  it  the  proper 
force  and  effect.  But  I  do  not  despair,  and  am  quite  certain 
that  by  the  time  I  have  broken  eight  or  ten  more  I  shall 
have  brought  it  to  such  perfection  as  to  be  able  to  teach  any 
young  lady  of  tolerable  ear  to  thunder  it  away  to  the  infinite 
delight  of  papa  and  mamma,  and  the  great  annoyance  of 
those  Vandals  who  are  so  barbarous  as  to  prefer  the  simple 
melody  of  a  Scots  air  to  the  sublime  effusions  of  modern 
musical  doctors. 

In  my  warm  anticipations  of  future  improvement  I  have 
sometimes  almost  convinced  myself  that  music  will  in  time 
be  brought  to  such  a  climax  of  perfection  as  to  supersede  the 
necessity  of  speech  and  writing ;  and  every  kind  of  social  in- 
tercourse be  conducted  by  the  flute  and  fiddle. — The  immense 
benefits  that  will  result  from  this  improvement  must  be  plain 
to  every  man  of  the  least  consideration.  In  the  present  un- 
happy situation  of  mortals,  a  man  has  but  one  way  of  mak- 
ing himself  perfectly  understood ;  if  he  loses  his  speech,  he 
must  inevitably  be  dumb  all  the  rest  of  his  life ;  but  having 
once  learned  this  new  musical  language,  the  loss  of  speech 
will  be  a  mere  trifle  not  worth  a  moment's  uneasiness.  Not 
only  this,  Mr.  L.,  but  it  will  add  much  to  the  harmony  of 
domestic  intercourse ;  for  it  is  certainly  much  more  agreeable 
to  hear  a  lady  give  lectures  on  the  piano  than,  viva  voce,  in 
the  usual  discordant  measure.  This  manner  of  discoursing 
may  also,  I  think,  be  introduced  with  great  effect  into  our 
national  assemblies,  where  every  man,  instead  of  wagging 
his  tongue,  should  be  obliged  to  flourish  a  fiddlestick,  by 
which  means,  if  he  said  nothing  to  the  purpose,  he  would,  at 
all  events,  "discourse  most  eloquent  music,"  which  is  more 
than  can  be  said  of  most  of  them  at  present.  They  might 
also  sound  their  own  trumpets  without  being  obliged  to  a 
hireling  scribbler  for  an  immortality  of  nine  days,  or  sub- 
jected to  the  censure  of  egotism. 


149 

But  the  most  important  result  of  this  discovery  is  that  it 
may  be  applied  to  the  establishment  of  that  great  desidera- 
tum, in  the  learned  world,  a  universal  language.  Wherever 
this  science  of  music  is  cultivated,  nothing  more  will  be  nec- 
essary than  a  knowledge  of  its  alphabet;  which  being  almost 
the  same  everywhere  will  amount  to  a  universal  medium  of 
communication.  A  man  may  thus,  with  his  violin  under  his 
arm,  a  piece  of  rosin,  and  a  few  bundles  of  catgut,  fiddle  his 
way  through  the  world,  and  never  be  at  a  loss  to  make  him- 
self understood. 

I  am,  etc., 

DEMY  SEMIQUAVER. 

[END  OF  VOLUME  FIRST] 


NOTE  BY  THE    PUBLISHER 

Without  the  knowledge  or  permission  of  the  authors,  and 
which,  if  he  dared,  he  would  have  placed  near  where  their 
remarks  are  made  on  the  great  difference  of  manners  which 
exists  between  the  sexes  now  from  what  it  did  in  the  days 
of  our  grandames.  The  danger  of  that  cheek-by-jowl  famil- 
iarity of  the  present  day  must  be  obvious  to  many ;  and  I 
think  the  following  a  strong  example  of  one  of  its  evils. 

EXTRACTED  FROM    "THE   MIRROR  OP  THE   GRACES" 

"I  REMEMBER  the  Count  M ,  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished and  handsomest  young  men  in  Vienna ;  when  I  was 
there  he  was  passionately  in  love  with  a  girl  of  almost  peer- 
less beauty.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  man  of  great  rank, 
and  great  influence  at  court ;  and  on  these  considerations,  as 
well  as  in  regard  to  her  charms,  she  was  followed  by  a  mul- 
titude of  suitors.  She  was  lively  and  amiable,  and  treated 
them  all  with  an  affability  which  st-ll  kept  them  in  her  train, 
although  it  was  generally  known  she  had  avowed  a  partial- 
ity foi'  Count  M  •  ;  and  that  preparations  were  making  for 


150  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?i!?$toi> 

their  nuptials.  The  Count  was  of  a  refined  mind  and  a  deli- 
cate sensibility ;  he  loved  her  for  herself  alone :  for  the  virtues 
which  he  believed  dwelt  in  her  beautiful  form ;  and,  like  a 
lover  of  such  perfections,  he  never  approached  her  without 
timidity ;  and  when  he  touched  her  a  fire  shot  through  his 
veins  that  warned  him  not  to  invade  the  vermilion  sanctuary 
of  her  lips.  Such  were  his  feelings  when,  one  evening,  at 
his  intended  father-in-law's,  a  party  of  young  people  were 
met  to  celebrate  a  certain  festival;  several  of  the  young 
lady's  rejected  suitors  were  present.  Forfeits  were  one  of 
the  pastimes,  and  all  went  on  with  the  greatest  merriment 
till  the  Count  was  commanded,  by  some  witty  mam'selle,  to 
redeem  his  glove  by  saluting  the  cheek  of  his  intended  bride. 
The  Count  blushed,  trembled,  advanced,  retreated;  again 
advanced  to  his  mistress;  and — at  last — with  a  tremor  that 
shook  his  whole  soul  and  every  fiber  of  his  frame,  with  a 
modest  and  diffident  grace,  he  took  the  soft  ringlet  which 
played  upon  her  cheek,  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  and  retired  to 
demand  his  redeemed  pledge  in  the  most  evident  confusion. 
His  mistress  gayly  smiled,  and  the  game  went  on. 

"One  of  her  rejected  suitors  who  was  of  a  merry,  unthink- 
ing disposition,  was  adjudged  by  the  same  indiscreet  crier  of 
the  forfeits  as  "his  last  treat  before  he  hanged  himself"  to 
snatch  a  kiss  from  the  object  of  his  recent  vows.  A  lively 
contest  ensued  between  the  gentleman  and  lady,  which  lasted 
for  more  than  a  minute ;  but  the  lady  yielded,  though  in  the 
midst  of  a  convulsive  laugh. 

"The  Count  had  the  mortification — the  agony — to  see  the 
lips,  which  his  passionate  and  delicate  love  would  not  permit 
him  to  touch,  kissed  with  roughness  and  repetition  by  another 
man:  even  by  one  whom  he  really  despised.  Mournfully 
and  silently,  without  a  word,  he  rose  from  his  chair — left  the 
room  and  the  house.  By  that  good-natured  kiss  the  fair 
boast  of  Vienna  lost  her  lover — lost  her  husband.  THE 

COUNT  NEVER  SAW   HER  MORE." 


151 


VOLUflE   SECOND 


No.  XL— TUESDAY,    JUNE   2,    1807 

LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB   KELI 

KHAN, 

CAPTAIN  OF  A  KETCH   TO   ASEM   HACCHEM,    PRINCIPAL 

SLAVE-DRIVER  TO   HIS   HIGHNESS   THE 

BASHAW    OF    TRIPOLI 

THE  deep  shadows  of  midnight  gather  around  me;  the 
footsteps  of  the  passengers  have  ceased  in  the  streets,  and 
nothing  disturbs  the  holy  silence  of  the  hour  save  the  sound 
of  distant  drums,  mingled  with  the  shouts,  the  bawlings,  and 
the  discordant  revelry  of  his  majesty  the  sovereign  mob.  Let 
the  hour  be  sacred  to  friendship,  and  consecrated  to  thee,  oh, 
thou  brother  of  my  inmost  soul ! 

Oh,  Asem !  I  almost  shrink  at  the  recollection  of  the  scenes 
of  confusion,  of  licentious  disorganization,  which  I  have  wit- 
nessed during  the  lastthree  days.  I  have  beheld  this  whole 
city,  nay,  this  whole  State,  given  up  to  the  tongue  and  the 
pen ;  to  the  puffers,  the  bawlers,  the  babblers,  and  the  slang- 
whangers.  I  have  beheld  the  community  convulsed  with  a 
civil  war,  or  civil  talk ;  individuals  verbally  massacred,  fam- 
ilies annihilated  by  whole  sheetfuls,  and  slang-whangers 
coolly  bathing  their  pens  in  ink  and  rioting  hi  the  slaughter 
of  their  thousands.  I  have  seen,  in  short,  that  awful  despot, 
the  people,  in  the  moment  of  unlimited  power,  wielding  news- 
papers in  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  scattering  mud  and 
filth  about,  like  some  desperate  lunatic  relieved  from  the  re- 
straints of  his  strait-waistcoat.  I  have  seen  beggars  on 
horseback,  ragamuffins  riding  in  coaches,  and  swine  seated 


152 

in  places  of  honor;  I  have  seen  liberty;  I  have  seen  equality; 
I  have  seen  fraternity! — I  have  seen  that  great  political  pup- 
pet-show— an  election. 

A  few  days  ago  the  friend  whom  I  have  mentioned  in 
some  of  my  former  letters  called  upon  me  to  accompany  him 
to  witness  this  grand  ceremony;  and  we  forthwith  sallied 
out  to  the  polls,  as  he  called  them.  Though  for  several 
weeks  before  this  splendid  exhibition  nothing  else  had  been 
talked  of,  yet  I  do  assure  thee  I  was  entirely  ignorant  of  its 
nature;  and  when,  on  coming  up  to  a  church,  my  companion 
informed  me  we  were  at  the  poll,  I  supposed  that  an  election 
was  some  great  religious  ceremony  like  the  fast  of  Ramazan 
or  the  great  festival  of  Haraphat,  so  celebrated  in  the  east. 

My  friend,  however,  undeceived  me  at  once,  and  entered 
into  a  long  dissertation  on  the  nature  and  object  of  an  elec- 
tion, the  substance  of  which  was  nearly  to  this  effect:  "You 
know,"  said  he,  "that  this  country  is  engaged  in  a  violent 
internal  warfare,  and  suffers  a  variety  of  evils  from  civil  dis- 
sensions. An  election  is  a  grand  trial  of  strength,  the  de- 
cisive battle,  when  the  belligerents  draw  out  their  forces  in 
martial  array;  when  every  leader,  burning  with  warlike 
ardor,  and  encouraged  by  the  shouts  and  acclamations  of 
tatterdemalions,  buffoons,  dependents,  parasites,  toad-eaters, 
scrubs,  vagrants,  mumpers,  ragamuffins,  bravos  and  beg- 
gars, in  his  rear,  and  puffed  up  by  his  bellows-blowing  slang- 
whangers,  waves  gallantly  the  banners  of  faction  and  presses 
forward  to  office  and  immortality! 

"For  a  month  or  two  previous  to  the  critical  period  which 
is  to  decide  this  important  affair,  the  whole  community  is  in 
a  ferment.  Every  man,  of  whatever  rank  or  degree,  such  is 
the  wonderful  patriotism  of  the  people,  disinterestedly  neg- 
lects his  business  to  devote  himself  to  his  country ;  and  not 
an  insignificant  fellow  but  feels  himself  inspired,  on  this 
occasion,  with  as  much  warmth  in  favor  of  the  cause  he 
has  espoused  as  if  all  the  comfort  of  his  life,  or  even  his  life 
itself,  was  dependent  on  the  issue.  Grand  councils  of  war 
are,  in  the  first  place,  called  by  the  different  powers,  which 


153 

are  dubbed  general  meetings,  where  all  the  head  workmen 
of  the  party  collect  and  arrange  the  order  of  battle ;  appoint 
the  different  commanders  and  their  subordinate  instruments, 
and  furnish  the  funds  indispensable  for  supplying  the  ex- 
penses of  the  war.  Inferior  councils  are  next  called  in  the 
different  classes  or  wards;  consisting  of  young  cadets,  who 
are  candidates  for  offices;  idlers  who  come  there  for  mere 
curiosity ;  and  orators  who  appear  for  the  purpose  of  detail- 
ing all  the  crimes,  the  faults,  or  the  weaknesses  of  their  op- 
ponents, and  speaking  the  sense  of  the  meeting,  as  it  is 
called ;  for  as  the  meeting  generally  consists  of  men  whose 
quota  of  sense,  taken  individually,  would  make  but  a  poor 
figure,  these  orators  are  appointed  to  collect  it  all  in  a  lump; 
when  I  assure  you  it  makes  a  very  formidable  appearance, 
and  furnishes  sufficient  matter  to  spin  an  oration  of  two  or 
three  hours. 

"The  orators  who  declaim  at  these  meetings  are,  with  a 
few  exceptions,  men  of  most  profound  and  perplexed  elo- 
quence ;  who  are  the  oracles  of  barber's  shops,  market-places 
and  porter-houses ;  and  who  you  may  see  every  day  at  the 
corners  of  the  streets,  taking  honest  men  prisoners  by  the  but- 
ton and  talking  their  ribs  quite  bare  without  mercy  and  with- 
out end.  These  orators,  in  addressing  an  audience,  generally 
mount  a  chair,  a  table,  or  an  empty  beer  barrel,  which  last 
is  supposed  to  afford  considerable  inspiration,  and  thunder 
away  their  combustible  sentiments  at  the  heads  of  the  audi- 
ence, who  are  generally  so  busily  employed  in  smoking,  drink- 
ing, and  hearing  themselves  talk,  that  they  seldom  hear  a 
word  of  the  matter.  This,  however,  is  of  little  moment;  for 
as  they  come  there  to  agree  at  all  events  to  a  certain  set  of 
resolutions  or  articles  of  war,  it  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  hear 
the  speech;  more  especially  as  few  would  understand  it  if 
they  did.  Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  the  minor  persons 
of  the  meeting  are  entirely  idle. — Besides  smoking  and  drink- 
ing, which  are  generally  practiced,  there  are  few  who  do  not 
come  with  as  great  a  desire  to  talk  as  the  orator  himself; 
each  has  his  little  circle  of  listeners,  in  the  midst  of  whom  he 


154  U/orK»  of  U7asl?!o$t:oi) 

sets  his  hat  on  one  side  of  his  head,  and  deals  out  matter-of- 
fact  information,  and  draws  self  evident  conclusions,  with 
the  pertinacity  of  a  pedant,  and  to  the  great  edification  of 
his  gaping  auditors.  Nay,  the  very  urchins  from  the  nursery, 
who  are  scarcely  emancipated  from  the  dominion  of  birch,  on 
these  occasions  strut  pigmy  great  men;  bellow  for  the  in- 
struction of  gray-bearded  ignorance,  and,  like  the  fropr  in 
the  fable,  endeavor  to  puff  themselves  up  to  the  size  of  the 
great  object  of  their  emulation — the  principal  orator." 

"But  is  it  not  preposterous  to  a  degree,"  cried  I,  "for 
those  puny  whipsters  to  attempt  to  lecture  age  and  experi- 
ence? They  should  be  sent  to  school  to  learn  better. " — "Not 
at  all,"  replied  my  friend;  "for  as  an  election  is  nothing 
more  than  a  war  of  words,  the  man  that  can  wag  his  tongue 
with  the  greatest  elasticity,  whether  he  speaks  to  the  purpose 
or  not,  is  entitled  to  lecture  at  ward  meetings  and  polls,  and 
instruct  all  who  are  inclined  to  listen  to  him :  you  may  have 
remarked  a  ward  meeting  of  politic  dogs,  where,  although  the 
great  dog  is,  ostensibly,  the  leader,  and  makes  the  most  noise, 
yet  every  little  scoundrel  of  a  cur  has  something  to  say ;  and 
hi  proportion  to  his  insignificance,  fidgets,  and  worries,  and 
puffs  about  mightily,  in  order  to  obtain  the  notice  and  appro- 
bation of  his  betters.  Thus  it  is  with  these  little,  beardless, 
bread-and-butter  politicians,  who  on  this  occasion  escape 
from  the  jurisdiction  of  their  mammas  to  attend  to  the  affairs 
of  the  nation.  You  will  see  them  engaged  in  dreadful  wordy 
contests  with  old  cartmen,  cobblers,  and  tailors,  and  plume 
themselves  not  a  little  if  they  should  chance  to  gain  a  vic- 
tory.— Aspiring  spirits!  how  interesting  are  the  first  dawn- 
ings  of  political  greatness!  An  election,  my  friend,  is  a 
nursery  or  hotbed  of  genius  hi  a  logocracy;  and  I  look  with 
enthusiasm  on  a  troop  of  these  Lilliputian  partisans  as  so 
many  chatterers,  and  orators,  and  puffers  and  slang-whangers 
in  embryo,  who  will  one  day  take  an  important  part  in  the 
quarrels  and  wordy  wars  of  their  country. 

"As  the  time  for  fighting  the  decisive  battle  approaches, 
appearances  become  more  and  more  alarming;  committees 


Salma$ui?di  155 

are  appointed,  who  hold  little  encampments  from  whence 
they  send  out  small  detachments  of  tattlers,  to  reconnoiter, 
harass,  and  skirmish  with  the  enemy,  and  if  possible  ascer- 
tain their  numbers;  everybody  seems  big  with  the  mighty 
event  that  is  impending ;  the  orators  they  gradually  swell  up 
beyond  their  usual  size ;  the  little  orators  they  grow  greater 
and  greater ;  the  secretaries  of  the  ward  committees  strut 
about  looking  like  wooden  oracles;  the  puffers  put  on  the  airs 
of  mighty  consequence ;  the  slang- whangers  deal  out  direful 
innuendoes  and  threats  of  doughty  import ;  and  all  is  buzz, 
murmur,  suspense,  and  sublimity ! 

"At  length  the  day  arrives.  The  storm  that  has  been  so 
long  gathering,  and  threatening  in  distant  thunders,  bursts 
forth  in  terrible  explosion:  all  business  is  at  an  end;  the 
whole  city  is  in  a  tumult;  the  people  are  running  helter- 
skelter,  they  know  not  whither,  and  they  know  not  why; 
the  hackney  coaches  rattle  through  the  streets  with  thunder 
ing  vehemence,  loaded  with  recruiting  sergeants  who  have 
been  prowling  in  cellars  and  caves,  to  unearth  some  miser- 
able minion  of  poverty  and  ignorance,  who  will  barter  his 
vote  for  a  glass  of  beer  or  a  ride  in  a  coach  with  such  fine 
gentlemen! — the  buzzards  of  the  party  scamper  from  poll  to 
poll,  on  foot  or  on  horseback ;  and  they  worry  from  com- 
mittee to  committee,  and  buzz,  and  fume,  and  talk  big,  and 
— do  nothing :  like  the  vagabond  drone,  who  wastes  his  time 
in  the  laborious  idleness  of  see-saw-song  and  busy  nothing- 
ness." 

I  know  not  how  long  my  friend  would  have  continued  his 
detail  had  he  not  been  interrupted  by  a  squabble  which  took 
place  between  two  old  continentals,  as  they  were  called.  It 
seems  they  had  entered  into  an  argument  on  the  respective 
merits  of  their  cause,  and  not  being  able  to  make  each  other 
clearly  understood,  resorted  to  what  is  called  knock-down 
arguments,  which  form  the  superlative  degree  of  argumen- 
tum  ad  hominem;  but  are,  in  my  opinion,  extremely  incon- 
sistent with  the  true  spirit  of  a  genuine  logocracy.  After 
they  had  beaten  each  other  soundly,  aud  set  the  whole  mob 


I5G  U/or^s  of  U/a»l?ii)$toi7  Irvirj$ 

together  by  the  ears,  they  came  to  a  full  explanation;  when 
it  was  discovered  that  they  were  both  of  the  same  way  of 
thinking ;  whereupon  they  shook  each  other  heartily  by  the 
hand  and  laughed  with  great  glee  at  their  humorous  misun- 
derstanding. 

I  could  not  help  being  struck  with  the  exceeding  great 
number  of  ragged,  dirty-looking  persons  that  swaggered 
about  the  place  and  seemed  to  think  themselves  the  bashaws 
of  the  land.  I  inquired  of  my  friend  if  these  people  were 
employed  to  drive  away  the  hogs,  dogs,  and  other  intruders 
that  might  thrust  themselves  in  and  interrupt  the  ceremony? 
"By  no  means,"  replied  he;  "these  are  the  representatives 
of  the  sovereign  people,  who  come  here  to  make  governors, 
senators,  and  members  of  assembly,  and  are  the  source  of  all 
power  and  authority  hi  this  nation." — "Preposterous!"  said 
I,  "how  is  it  possible  that  such  men  can  be  capable  of  distin- 
guishing between  an  honest  man  and  a  knave ;  or  even  if 
they  were,  will  it  not  always  happen  that  they  are  led  by  the 
nose  by  some  intriguing  demagogue  and  made  the  mere  tools 
of  ambitious  political  jugglers?  Surely  it  would  be  better  to 
trust  to  Providence,  or  even  to  chance,  for  governors,  than 
resort  to  the  discriminating  powers  of  an  ignorant  mob. — I 
plainly  perceive  the  consequence.  A  man  who  possesses  su- 
perior talents,  and  that  honest  pride  which  ever  accompanies 
this  possession,  will  always  be  sacrificed  to  some  creeping 
insect  who  will  prostitute  himself  to  familiarity  with  the  low- 
est of  mankind;  and,  like  the  idolatrous  Egyptian,  worship 
the  wallowing  tenants  of  filth  and  mire. ' ' 

"All  this  is  true  enough,"  replied  my  friend,  "but  after 
all,  you  cannot  say  but  that  this  is  a  free  country,  and  that 
the  people  can  get  drunk  cheaper  here,  particularly  at  elec- 
tions, than  in  the  despotic  countries  of  the  east."  I  could 
not,  with  any  degree  of  propriety  or  truth,  deny  this  last  as- 
sertion ;  for  just  at  that  moment  a  patriotic  brewer  arrived 
with  a  load  of  beer,  which,  for  a  moment,  occasioned  a  cessa- 
tion of  argument.  — The  great  crowd  of  buzzards,  puffers,  and 
"old  continentals"  of  all  parties,  who  throng  to  the  polls,  to 


157 

persuade,  to  cheat,  or  to  force  the  freeholders  into  the  right 
way,  and  to  maintain  the  freedom  of  suffrage,  seemed  for  a 
moment  to  forget  their  antipathies  and  joined,  heartily,  in 
a  copious  libation  of  this  patriotic  and  argumentative  bev- 
erage. 

These  beer-barrels  indeed  seem  to  be  most  able  logicians, 
well  stored  with  that  kind  of  sound  argument  best  suited  to 
the  comprehension,  and  most  relished  by  the  mob,  or  sov- 
ereign people;  who  are  never  so  tractable  as  when  operated 
upon  by  this  convincing  liquor,  which,  hi  fact,  seems  to  be 
imbued  with  the  very  spirit  of  a  logocracy.  No  sooner  does 
it  begin  its  operation  than  the  tongue  waxes  exceeding  valor- 
ous, and  becomes  impatient  for  some  mighty  conflict.  The 
puffer  puts  himself  at  the  head  of  his  bodyguard  of  buzzards 
and  his  legion  of  ragamuffins,  and  woe  then  to  every  unhappy 
adversary  who  is  uninspired  by  the  deity  of  the  beer-barrel 
— he  is  sure  to  be  talked  and  argued  into  complete  insignifi- 
cance. 

While  I  was  making  these  observations,  I  was  surprised 
to  observe  a  bashaw,  high  in  office,  shaking  a  fellow  by  the 
hand  that  looked  rather  more  ragged  than  a  scarecrow,  and 
inquiring  with  apparent  solicitude  concerning  the  health  of 
his  family ;  after  which  he  slipped  a  little  folded  paper  into 
his  hand  and  turned  away.  I  could  not  help  applauding  his 
humility  in  shaking  the  fellow's  hand,  and  his  benevolence 
hi  relieving  his  distresses,  for  I  imagined  the  paper  contained 
something  for  the  poor  man's  necessities ;  and  truly  he  seemed 
verging  toward  the  last  stage  of  starvation.  My  friend,  how- 
ever, soon  undeceived  me  by  saying  that  this  was  an  elector, 
and  that  the  bashaw  had  merely  given  him  the  list  of  candi- 
dates for  whom  he  was  to  vote.  "Ho!  hoi"  said  I,  "then 
he  is  a  particular  friend  of  the  bashaw?" — "By  no  means," 
replied  my  friend,  "the  bashaw  will  pass  him  without  notice 
the  day  after  the  election,  except,  perhaps,  just  to  drive  over 
him  with  his  coach." 

My  friend  then  proceeded  to  inform  me  that  for  some  time 
before  and  during  the  continuance  of  an  election,  there  was 


158  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ii)$toi) 

a  most  delectable  courtship,  or  intrigue,  carried  on  between 
the  great  bashaws  and  mother  mob.  That  mother  mob  gen- 
erally preferred  the  attentions  of  the  rabble,  or  of  fellows  of 
her  own  stamp ;  but  would  sometimes  condescend  to  be  treated 
to  a  feasting,  or  anything  of  that  kind,  at  the  bashaw's  ex- 
pense; nay,  sometimes  when  she  was  in  good  humor,  she 
would  condescend  to  toy  with  them  in  her  rough  way ;  but 
woe  be  to  the  bashaw  who  attempted  to  be  familiar  with  her, 
for  she  was  the  most  pestilent,  cross,  crabbed,  scolding,  thiev- 
ing, scratching,  toping,  wrong-headed,  rebellious,  and  abomi- 
nable termagant  that  ever  was  let  loose  in  the  world,  to  the 
confusion  of  honest  gentlemen  bashaws. 

Just  then  a  fellow  came  round  and  distributed  among  the 
crowd  a  number  of  handbills,  written  by  the  ghost  of  Wash- 
ington, the  fame  of  whose  illustrious  actions,  and  still  more 
illustrious  virtues,  has  reached  even  the  remotest  regions  of 
the  east,  and  who  is  venerated  by  this  people  as  the  Father 
of  his  country.  On  reading  this  paltry  paper,  I  could  not 
restrain  my  indignation.  "Insulted  hero,"  cried  I,  "is  it 
thus  thy  name  is  profaned,  thy  memory  disgraced,  thy  spirit 
drawn  down  from  heaven  to  administer  to  the  brutal  violence 
of  party  rage?  It  is  thus  the  necromancers  of  the  east,  by 
their  infernal  incantations,  sometimes  call  up  the  shades  of 
the  just,  to  give  their  sanction  to  frauds,  to  lies,  and  oo  every 
species  of  enormity."  My  friend  smiled  at  my  warmth  and 
observed  that  raising  ghosts,  and  not  only  raising  them,  but 
making  them  speak,  was  one  of  the  miracles  of  elections. 
"And  believe  me,"  continued  he,  "there  is  good  reason  for 
the  ashes  of  departed  heroes  being  disturbed  on  these  occa- 
sions ;  for  such  is  the  sandy  foundation  of  our  government 
that  there  never  happens  an  election  of  an  alderman,  or  a 
collector,  or  even  a  constable,  but  we  are  hi  imminent  danger 
of  losing  our  liberties,  and  becoming  a  province  of  France  or 
tributary  to  the  British  islands." — "By  the  hump  of  Ma- 
homet's camel,"  said  I,  "but  this  is  only  another  striking 
example  of  the  prodigious  great  scale  on  which  everything  is 
transacted  in  this  country  1" 


Sal/na$ui?di  159 

By  this  time  1  had  become  tired  of  the  scene ;  my  head 
ached  with  the  uproar  of  voices,  mingling  in  all  the  discord- 
ant tones  of  triumphant  exclamation,  nonsensical  argument, 
intemperate  reproach,  and  drunken  absurdity. — The  confu- 
sion was  such  as  no  language  can  adequately  describe,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  all  the  restraints  of  decency,  and  all  the  bands 
of  law,  had  been  broken  and  given  place  to  the  wide  ravages 
of  licentious  brutality.  These,  thought  I,  are  the  orgies  of 
liberty!  these  are  the  manifestations  of  the  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence! these  are  the  symbols  of  man's  sovereignty! 
Head  of  Mahomet!  with  what  a  fatal  and  inexorable  des- 
potism do  empty  names  and  ideal  phantoms  exercise  their 
dominion  over  the  human  mind!  The  experience  of  ages 
has  demonstrated  that  in  all  nations,  barbarous  or  enlight- 
ened, the  mass  of  the  people,  the  mob,  must  be  slaves,  or 
they  will  be  tyrants;  but  their  tyranny  will  not  be  long. 
Some  ambitious  leader,  having  at  first  condescended  to  be 
their  slave,  will  at  length  become  their  master;  and  in  pro- 
portion to  the  vileness  of  his  former  servitude  will  be  the 
severity  of  his  subsequent  tyranny.  Yet,  with  innumerable 
examples  staring  them  in  the  face,  the  people  still  bawl  out 
liberty ;  by  which  they  mean  nothing  but  freedom  from  every 
species  of  legal  restraint,  and  a  warrant  for  all  kinds  of  licen- 
tiousness :  and  the  bashaws  and  leaders,  in  courting  the  mob, 
convince  them  of  their  power;  and  by  administering  to  their 
passions,  for  the  purposes  of  ambition,  at  length  learn,  by 
fatal  experience,  that  he  who  worships  the  beast  that  carries 
him  on  his  back  will  sooner  or  later  be  thrown  into  the  dust 
and  trampled  under  foot  by  the  animal  who  has  learned  the 
secret  of  its  power  by  this  very  adoration. 

Ever  thine,  MUSTAPHA. 


160  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ip$toi) 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 


MINE  UNCLE  JOHN 

To  those  wnose  habits  of  abstraction  may  have  let  them 
into  some  of  the  secrets  of  their  own  minds,  and  whose  free- 
dom from  daily  toil  has  left  them  at  leisure  to  analyze  theit 
feelings,  it  will  be  nothing  new  to  say  that  the  present  is 
peculiarly  the  season  of  remembrance.  The  flowers,  the 
zephyrs,  and  the  warblers  of  spring,  returning  after  their 
tedious  absence,  bring  naturally  to  our  recollection  past  times 
and  buried  feelings;  and  the  whispers  of  the  full-foliaged 
grove  fall  on  the  ear  of  contemplation  like  the  sweet  tones  of 
far  distant  friends  whom  the  rude  jostles  of  the  world  have 
severed  from  us  and  cast  far  beyond  our  reach.  It  is  at  such 
times  that,  casting  backward  many  a  lingering  look,  we  re- 
call, with  a  kind  of  sweet-souled  melancholy,  the  days  of  our 
youth,  and  the  jocund  companions  who  started  with  us  the 
race  of  life,  but  parted  midway  in  the  journey  to  pursue  some 
winding  path  that  allured  them  with  a  prospect  more  seduc- 
ing— and  never  returned  to  us  again.  It  is  then,  too,  if  we 
have  been  afflicted  with  any  heavy  sorrow,  if  we  have  even 
lost — and  who  has  not? — an  old  friend  or  chosen  companion, 
that  his  shade  will  hover  around  us ;  the  memory  of  his  virtues 
press  on  the  heart;  and  a  thousand  endearing  recollections, 
forgotten  amid  the  cold  pleasures  and  midnight  dissipations 
of  winter,  arise  to  our  remembrance. 

These  speculations  bring  to  my  mind  "my  uncle  John," 
the  history  of  whose  loves  and  disappointments  I  have  prom- 
ised to  the  world.  Though  I  must  own  myself  much  ad- 
dicted to  forgetting  my  promises,  yet,  as  I  have  been  so  hap- 
pily reminded  of  this,  I  believe  I  must  pay  it  at  once,  "and 
there  is  an  end."  Lest  my  readers — good-natured  souls  that 
they  are ! — should,  in  the  ardor  of  peeping  into  millstones, 
take  my  uncle  for  an  old  acquaintance,  I  here  inform  them 


161 

that  the  old  gentleman  died  a  great  many  years  ago,  and  it 
is  impossible  they  should  ever  have  known  him.  I  pity  them, 
for  they  would  have  known  a  good-natured,  benevolent  man, 
whose  example  might  have  been  of  service. 

The  last  time  I  saw  my  uncle  John  was  fifteen  years  ago, 
when  I  paid  him  a  visit  at  his  old  mansion.  I  found  him 
reading  a  newspaper — for  it  was  election  time,  and  he  wag 
always  a  warm  Federalist,  and  had  made  several  converts  to 
the  true  political  faith  in  his  time;  particularly  one  old  ten- 
ant, who  always,  just  before  the  election,  became  a  violent 
anti,  in  order  that  he  might  be  convinced  of  his  errors  by  my 
uncle,  who  never  failed  to  .reward  his  conviction  by  some 
substantial  benefit. 

After  we  had  settled  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  and  I  had 
paid  my  respects  to  the  old  family  chronicles  in  the  kitchen 
— an  indispensable  ceremony — the  old  gentleman  exclaimed, 
with  heart-felt  glee,  "Well,  I  suppose  you  are  for  a  trout- 
fishing?  I  have  got  everything  prepared ;  but  first  you  must 
take  a  walk  with  me  to  see  my  improvements."  I  was 
obliged  to  consent;  though  I  knew  my  uncle  would  lead  me 
a  most  villainous  dance,  and  in  all  probability  treat  me  to  a 
quagmire,  or  a  tumble  into  a  ditch.  If  my  readers  choose 
to  accompany  me  in  this  expedition  they  are  welcome;  if 
not,  let  them  stay  at  home  like  lazy  fellows — and  sleep — or 
be  hanged. 

Though  I  had  been  absent  several  years,  yet  there  was 
very  little  alteration  in  the  scenery,  and  every  object  retained 
the  same  features  it  bore  when  I  was  a  schoolboy :  for  it  was 
in  this  spot  that  I  grew  up  in  the  fear  of  ghosts,  and  in  the 
breaking  of  many  of  the  ten  commandments.  The  brook,  or 
river,  as  they  would  call  it  in  Europe,  still  murmured  with 
its  wonted  sweetness  through  the  meadow ;  and  its  banks 
were  still  tufted  with  dwarf  willows  that  bent  down  to  the 
surface.  The  same  echo  inhabited  the  valley,  and  the  same 
tender  air  of  repose  pervaded  the  whole  scene.  Even  my 
good  uncle  was  but  little  altered,  except  that  his  hair  was 
grown  a  little  grayer  and  his  forehead  had  lost  some  of  its 


162  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$too  Irvfr>$ 

former  smoothness.  He  had,  however,  lost  nothing  of  his 
former  activity,  and  laughed  heartily  at  the  difficulty  I  found 
in  keeping  up  with  him  as  he  stumped  through  bushes,  and 
briers,  and  hedges ;  talking  all  the  time  about  his  improve- 
ments, and  telling  what  he  would  do  with  such  a  spot  of 
ground  and  such  a  tree.  At  length,  after  showing  me  his 
stone  fences,  his  famous  two-year-old  bull,  his  new  invented 
cart,  which  was  to  go  before  the  horse,  and  his  Eclipse  colt, 
he  was  pleased  to  return  home  to  dinner. 

After  dinner  and  returning  thanks — which  with  him  was 
not  a  ceremony  merely,  but  an  offering  from  the  heart — my 
uncle  opened  his  trunk,  took  out  his  fishing-tackle,  and,  with- 
out saying  a  word,  sallied  forth  with  some  of  those  truly 
alarming  steps  which  Daddy  Neptune  once  took  when  he 
was  in  a  great  hurry  to  attend  to  the  affair  of  the  siege  of 
Troy.  Trout-fishing  was  my  uncle's  favorite  sport;  and, 
though  I  always  caught  two  fish  to  his  one,  he  never  would 
acknowledge  my  superiority;  but  puzzled  himself  often  and 
often  to  account  for  such  a  singular  phenomenon. 

Following  the  current  of  the  brook  for  a  mile  or  two,  we 
retraced  many  of  our  old  haunts,  and  told  a  hundred  ad- 
ventures which  had  befallen  us  at  different  tunes.  It  was 
like  snatching  the  hour-glass  of  time,  inverting  it,  and  roll- 
ing back  again  the  sands  that  had  marked  the  lapse  of  years. 
At  length  the  shadows  began  to  lengthen,  the  south-wind 
gradually  settled  into  a  perfect  calm,  the  sun  threw  his  rays 
through  the  trees  on  the  hilltops  in  golden  luster,  and  a  kind 
of  Sabbath  stillness  pervaded  the  whole  valley,  indicating 
that  the  hour  was  fast  approaching  which  was  to  relieve  for 
a  while  the  farmer  from  his  rural  labor,  the  ox  from  his  toil, 
the  school-urchin  from  his  primer,  and  bring  the  loving  plow- 
man home  to  the  feet  of  his  blooming  dairymaid. 

As  we  were  watching  in  silence  the  last  rays  of  the  sun 
beaming  their  farewell  radiance  on  the  high  hills  at  a  dis- 
tance, my  uncle  exclaimed,  in  a  kind  of  half -desponding 
tone,  while  he  rested  his  arm  over  an  old  tree  that  had  fallen 
— "I  know  not  how  it  is,  my  dear  Launce,  but  such  an  even- 


163 

ing,  and  such  a  still  quiet  scene  as  this,  always  make  me  a 
little  sad ;  and  it  is,  at  such  a  time,  I  am  most  apt  to  look 
forward  with  regret  to  the  period  when  this  farm,  on  which 
'I  have  been  young,  but  now  am  old,'  and  every  object 
around  me  that  is  endeared  by  long  acquaintance — when  all 
these  and  I  must  shake  hands  and  part.  I  have  no  fear  of 
death,  for  my  life  has  afforded  but  little  temptation  to  wick- 
edness; and  when  I  die,  I  hope  to  leave  behind  me  more 
substantial  proofs  of  virtue  than  will  be  found  hi  my  epitaph, 
and  more  lasting  memorials  than  churches  built  or  hospitals 
endowed,  with  wealth  wrung  from  the  hard  hand  of  poverty 
by  an  unfeeling  landlord  or  unprincipled  knave ;  but  still, 
when  I  pass  such  a  day  as  this  and  contemplate  such  a  scene, 
I  cannot  help  feeling  a  latent  wish  to  linger  yet  a  little  longer 
in  this  peaceful  asylum;  to  enjoy  a  little  more  sunshine  in 
this  world,  and  to  have  a  few  more  fishing-matches  with  my 
boy."  As  he  ended  he  raised  his  hand  a  little  from  the  fallen 
tree,  and  dropping  it  languidly  by  his  side  turned  himself 
toward  home.  The  sentiment,  the  look,  the  action,  all  seemed 
to  be  prophetic.  And  so  they  were,  for  when  I  shook  him 
by  the  hand  and  bade  him  farewell  the  next  morning — it  was 
for  the  last  time ! 

He  died  a  bachelor,  at  the  age  of  sixty-three,  though  he 
had  been  all  his  life  trying  to  get  married;  and  always 
thought  himself  on  the  point  of  accomplishing  his  wishes. 
His  disappointments  were  not  owing  either  to  the  deformity 
of  his  mind  or  person;  for  in  his  youth  lie  was  reckoned 
handsome,  and  I  myself  can  witness  for  him  that  he  had  as 
kind  a  heart  as  ever  was  fashioned  by  Heaven;  neither  were 
they  owing  to  his  poverty,  which  sometimes  stands  in  an. 
honest  man's  way;  for  he  was  born  to  the  inheritance  of  a 
small  estate  which  was  sufficient  to  establish  his  claim  to  the 
title  of  "one  well-to-do  in  the  world."  The  truth  is,  my 
uncle  had  a  prodigious  antipathy  to  doing  things  hi  a  hurry. 
— "A  man  should  consider,"  said  he  to  me  once,  "that  he 
can  always  get  a  wife,  but  cannot  always  get  rid  of  her.  For 
my  part,"  continued  he,  "I  am  a  young  fellow,  with  the 


164  U/orKs  of  U/a8ftii)$tor> 

world  before  me" — he  was  but  about  forty! — "and  am  re- 
solved to  look  sharp,  weigh  matters  well,  and  know  what's 
what,  before  I  marry.  In  short,  Launce,  I  don't  intend  to 
do  the  thing  in  a  hurry,  depend  upon  it."  On  this  whim- 
wham  he  proceeded :  he  began  with  young  girls,  and  ended 
with  widows.  The  girls  he  courted  until  they  grew  old 
maids,  or  married  out  of  pure  apprehension  of  incurring  cer- 
tain penalties  hereafter;  and  the  widows,  not  having  quite  as 
much  patience,  generally,  at  the  end  of  a  year,  while  the 
good  man  thought  himself  hi  the  high  road  to  success,  mar- 
ried some  harum-scarum  young  fellow,  who  had  not  such 
an  antipathy  to  doing  things  in  a  hurry. 

My  uncle  would  have  inevitably  sunk  under  these  re- 
peated disappointments — for  he  did  not  want  sensibility — had 
he  not  hit  upon  a  discovery  which  set  all  to  rights  at  once. 
He  consoled  his  vanity — for  he  was  a  little  vain,  and  soothed 
his  pride,  which  was  his  master-passion — by  telling  his  friends 
very  significantly,  while  his  eye  would  flash  triumph,  "that 
he  might  have  had  her." — Those  who  know  how  much  of 
the  bitterness  of  disappointed  affection  arises  from  wounded 
vanity  and  exasperated  pride,  will  give  my  uncle  credit  for 
this  discovery. 

My  uncle  had  been  told  by  a  prodigious  number  of  mar- 
ried men,  and  had  read  in  an  innumerable  quantity  of  books, 
that  a  man  could  not  possibly  be  happy  except  in  the  married 
state;  so  he  determined  at  an  early  age  to  marry,  that  he 
might  not  lose  his  only  chance  for  happiness.  He  accord- 
ingly forthwith  paid  his  addresses  to  the  daughter  of  a 
neighboring  gentleman  farmer,  who  was  reckoned  the  beauty 
of  the  whole  world;  a  phrase  by  which  the  honest  country 
people  mean  nothing  more  than  the  circle  of  their  acquaint- 
ance, or  that  territory  of  land  which  is  within  sight  of  the 
smoke  of  their  own  hamlet. 

This  young  lady,  in  addition  to  her  beauty,  was  highly  ac- 
complished, for  she  had  spent  five  or  six  months  at  a  boarding- 
school  in  town ;  where  she  learned  to  work  pictures  in  satin, 
and  paint  sheep  that  might  be  mistaken  for  wolves ;  to  hold 


Salma$ur)dl  165 

up  her  head,  sit  straight  in  her  chair,  and  to  think  every 
species  of  useful  acquirement  beneath  her  attention.  "When 
she  returned  home,  so  completely  had  she  forgotten  every- 
thing she  knew  before,  that  on  seeing  one  of  the  maids  milk- 
ing a  cow  she  asked  her  father,  with  an  air  of  most  enchanting 
ignorance,  "What  that  odd-looking  thing  was  doing  to  that 
queer  animal?"  The  old  man  shook  his  head  at  this;  but 
the  mother  was  delighted  at  these  symptoms  of  gentility,  and 
so  enamored  of  her  daughter's  accomplishments  that  she 
actually  got  framed  a  picture  worked  in  satin  by  the  young 
lady.  It  represented  the  tomb  scene  in  "Romeo  and  Juliet." 
Romeo  was  dressed  in  an  orange-colored  cloak,  fastened 
round  his  neck  with  a  large  golden  clasp ;  a  white  satin, 
tamboured  waistcoat,  leather  breeches,  blue  silk  stockings, 
and  white-topped  boots.  The  amiable  Juliet  shone  in  a 
flame-colored  gown,  most  gorgeously  bespangled  with  silver 
stars,  a  high-crowned  muslin  cap  that  reached  to  the  top  of 
the  tomb ;  on  her  feet  she  wore  a  pair  of  short-quartered 
high-heeled  shoes,  and  her  waist  was  the  exact  fac-simile 
of  an  inverted  sugarloaf.  The  head  of  the  "noble  county 
Paris"  looked  like  a  chimney  sweeper's  brush  that  had  lost 
its  handle ;  and  the  cloak  of  the  good  Friar  hung  about  him 
as  gracefully  as  the  armor  of  a  rhinoceros.  The  good  lady 
considered  this  picture  as  a  splendid  proof  of  her  daughter's 
accomplishments,  and  hung  it  up  in  the  best  parlor,  as  an 
honest  tradesman  does  his  certificate  of  admission  into  that 
enlightened  body  yclept  the  Mechanic  Society. 

With  this  accomplished  young  lady  then  did  my  uncle 
John  become  deeply  enamored,  and  as  it  was  his  first  love 
he  determined  to  bestir  himself  in  an  extraordinary  manner. 
Once  at  least  in  a  fortnight,  and  generally  on  a  Sunday 
evening,  he  would  put  on  his  leather  breeches,  for  he  was  a 
great  beau,  mount  his  gray  horse  Pepper,  and  ride  over  to 
see  his  Miss  Pamela,  though  she  lived  upward  of  a  mile  off, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  pass  close  by  a  churchyard,  which  at 
least  a  hundred  creditable  persons  would  swear  was  haunted! 
— Miss  Pamela  could  not  be  insensible  to  such  proofs  of  at- 


U/orl^s  of  U7asl?ip$toi? 

tachment,  and  accordingly  received  him  with  considerable 
kindness;  her  mother  always  left  the  room  when  he  came, 
and  my  uncle  had  as  good  as  made  a  declaration  by  saying 
one  evening,  very  significantly,  "that  he  believed  that  he 
should  soon  change  his  condition";  when,  somehow  or 
other,  he  began  to  think  he  was  doing  things  in  too  great 
a  hurry,  and  that  it  was  high  time  to  consider;  so  he  con- 
sidered near  a  month  about  it,  and  there  is  no  saying  how 
much  longer  he  might  have  spun  the  thread  of  his  doubts 
had  he  not  been  roused  from  this  state  of  indecision  by  the 
news  that  his  mistress  had  married  an  attorney's  apprentice, 
whom  she  had  seen  the  Sunday  before  at  church;  where  he 
had  excited  the  applause  of  the  whole  congregation  by  the 
invincible  gravity  with  which  he  listened  to  a  Dutch  sermon. 
The  young  people  in  the  neighborhood  laughed  a  good  deal 
at  my  uncle  on  the  occasion,  but  he  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  looked  mysterious,  and  replied,  "Tut,  boys!  I 
might  have  had  her." 

NOTE    BY    WILLIAM    WIZARD,    ESQ. 

Our  publisher,  who  is  busily  engaged  in  printing  a  cele- 
brated work,  which  is  perhaps  more  generally  read  in  this 
city  than  any  other  book,  not  excepting  the  Bible — I  mean 
the  "New  York  Directory" — has  begged  so  hard  that  we 
will  not  overwhelm  him  with  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  that 
we  have,  with  Langstaff 's  approbation,  cut  short  the  residue 
of  Uncle  John's  amours.  In  all  probability  it  will  be  given 
in  a  future  number,  whenever  Launcelot  is  in  the  humor  for 
ft — he  is  such  an  odd — but,  mum — for  fear  of  another  sus- 
pension. 


167 


No.   XII.— SATURDAY,   JUNE   27,    1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

SOME  men  delight  in  the  study  of  plants,  in  the  dissection 
of  a  leaf,  or  the  contour  and  complexion  of  a  tulip;  others 
are  charmed  with  the  beauties  of  the  feathered  race,  or  the 
varied  hues  of  the  insect  tribe.  A  naturalist  will  spend  houiv 
in  the  fatiguing  pursuit  of  a  butterfly,  and  a  man  of  the  ton 
will  waste  whole  years  in  the  chase  of  a  fine  lady.  I  feel  a 
respect  for  their  avocations,  for  my  own  are  somewhat  sim- 
ilar. I  love  to  open  the  great  volume  of  human  character. 
To  me  the  examination  of  a  beau  is  more  interesting  than 
that  of  a  daffodil  or  narcissus ;  and  I  feel  a  thousand  times 
more  pleasure  in  catching  a  new  view  of  human  nature  than 
in  kidnaping  the  most  gorgeous  butterfly — even  an  Emperor 
of  Morocco  himself! 

In  my  present  situation  I  have  ample  room  for  the  indul- 
gence of  this  taste ;  for,  perhaps,  there  is  not  a  house  in  this 
city  more  fertile  in  subjects  for  the  anatomist  of  human 
character  than  my  cousin  Cockloft's.  Honest  Christopher, 
as  I  have  before  mentioned,  is  one  of  those  hearty  old  cava- 
liers who  pride  themselves  upon  keeping  up  the  good,  honest, 
unceremonious  hospitality  of  old  times.  He  is  never  so  happy 
as  when  he  has  drawn  about  him  a  knot  of  sterling-hearted 
associates,  and  sits  at  the  head  of  his  table  dispensing  a 
warm,  cheering  welcome  to  all.  His  countenance  expands 
at  every  glass  and  beams  forth  emanations  of  hilarity,  benev- 
olence, and  good  fellowship,  that  inspire  and  gladden  every 
guest  around  him.  It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  such 
excellent  social  qualities  should  attract  a  host  of  friends  and 
guests;  in  fact,  my  cousin  is  almost  overwhelmed  with  them; 
and  they  all,  uniformly,  pronounce  old  Cockloft  to  be  one  of 


168  U/or^s  of  U/a8l?ii}<Jtoi7 

the  finest  fellows  in  the  world.  His  wine  also  always  comes 
in  for  a  good  share  of  their  approbation ;  nor  do  they  forget 
to  do  honor  to  Mrs.  Cockloft's  cookery,  pronouncing  it  to  be 
modeled  after  the  most  approved  recipes  of  Heliogabulus  and 
Mrs.  Glasse.  The  variety  of  company  thus  attracted  is  par- 
ticularly pleasing  to  me;  for,  being  considered  a  privileged 
person  in  the  family,  I  can  sit  in  a  corner,  indulge  in  my 
favorite  amusement  of  observation,  and  retreat  to  my  elbow- 
chair,  like  a  bee  to  his  hive,  whenever  I  have  collected  suffi- 
cient food  for  meditation. 

Will  Wizard  is  particularly  efficient  in  adding  to  the  stock 
of  originals  which  frequent  our  house ;  for  he  is  one  of  the 
most  inveterate  hunters  of  oddities  I  ever  knew;  and  his  first 
care,  on  making  a  new  acquaintance,  is  to  gallant  him  to  old 
Cockloft's,  where  he  never  fails  to  receive  the  freedom  of  the 
house  hi  a  pinch  from  his  gold  box.  Will  has,  without  ex- 
ception, the  queerest,  most  eccentric,  and  indescribable  set 
of  intimates  that  ever  man  possessed;  how  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  them  I  cannot  conceive,  except  by  supposing 
there  is  a  secret  attraction  or  unintelligible  sympathy  that 
unconsciously  draws  together  oddities  of  every  soil. 

Will's  great  crony  for  some  time  was  Tom  Straddle,  to 
whom  he  really  took  a  great  liking.  Straddle  had  just 
arrived  in  an  importation  of  hardware,  fresh  from  the  city 
of  Birmingham,  or  rather,  as  the  most  learned  English  would 
call  it,  Brummagem,  so  famous  for  its  manufactories  of 
gimlets,  penknives,  and  pepper-boxes;  and  where  they 
make  buttons  and  beaux  enough  to  inundate  our  whole 
country.  He  was  a  young  man  of  considerable  standing  in 
the  manufactory  at  Birmingham,  sometimes  had  the  honor 
to  hand  his  master's  daughter  into  a  tim-whisky,  was  the 
oracle  of  the  tavern  he  frequented  on  Sundays,  and  could 
beat  all  his  associates,  if  you  would  take  his  word  for  it,  in 
boxing,  beer  drinking,  jumping  over  chairs,  and  imitating 
cats  in  a  gutter  and  opera  singers.  Straddle  was,  more- 
over, a  member  of  a  Catch  club,  and  was  a  great  hand  at 
Tinging  bob-majors;  he  was,  of  course,  a  complete  connois- 


Salmaqurjdl  169 

geur  of  music,  and  entitled  to  assume  that  character  at  all 
performances  in  the  art.  He  was  likewise  a  member  of  a 
Spouting  club,  had  seen  a  company  of  strolling  actors  per- 
form in  a  barn,  and  had  even,  like  Abel  Drugger,  "enacted" 
the  part  of  Major  Sturgeon  with  considerable  applause ;  he 
was  consequently  a  profound  critic,  and  fully  authorized  to 
turn  up  his  nose  at  any  American  performances.  He  had 
twice  partaken  of  annual  dinners  given  to  the  head  manu- 
facturers of  Birmingham,  where  he  had  the  good  fortune  to 
get  a  taste  of  turtle  and  turbot ;  and  a  smack  of  Champagne 
and  Burgundy;  and  he  had  heard  a  vast  deal  of  the  roast 
beef  of  Old  England ;  he  was  therefore  epicure  sufficient  to 
d — n  every  dish  and  every  glass  of  wine  he  tasted  in  America; 
though  at  the  same  time  he  was  as  voracious  an  animal  as 
ever  crossed  the  Atlantic.  Straddle  had  been  splashed  half 
a  dozen  times  by  the  carriages  of  nobility,  and  had  once  the 
superlative  felicity  of  being  kicked  out  of  doors  by  the  foot- 
man of  a  noble  duke;  he  could,  therefore,  talk  of  nobility 
and  despise  the  untitled  plebeians  of  America.  In  short, 
Straddle  was  one  of  those  dapper,  bustling,  florid,  round, 
self-important  "gemmen"  who  bounce  upon  us  half  beau, 
half  button-maker;  undertake  to  give  us  the  true  polish  of 
the  bon-ton,  and  endeavor  to  inspire  us  with  a  proper  and 
dignified  contempt  of  our  native  country. 

Straddle  was  quite  in  raptures  when  his  employers  de~ 
termined  to  send  him  to  America  as  an  agent.  He  consid- 
ered himself  as  going  among  a  nation  of  barbarians,  where 
Jie  would  be  received  as  a  prodigy ;  he  anticipated,  with  a 
proud  satisfaction,  the  bustle  and  confusion  his  arrival  would 
occasion;  the  crowd  that  would  throng  to  gaze  at  him  as  he 
passed  through  the  streets,  and  had  little  doubt  but  that  he 
should  occasion  as  much  curiosity  as  an  Indian  chief  or  a 
Turk  in  the  streets  of  Birmingham.  He  had  heard  of  the 
beauty  of  our  women,  and  chuckled  at  the  thought  of  how 
completely  he  should  eclipse  their  unpolished  beaux,  and  the 
number  of  despairing  lovers  that  would  mourn  the  hour  of 
fiis  arrival.  I  am  even  inf ormed  by  Will  "Wizard  that  he  put 

*  *  *  H  VOL.  V. 


170  U/orKs  of  U/a8J?irj^toi7  Iruli)<? 


good  store  of  beads,  spike-nails,  and  looking-glasses  in  his 
trunk  to  win  the  affections  of  the  fair  ones  as  they  paddled 
about  in  their  bark  canoes.  The  reason  "Will  gave  for  this 
error  of  Straddle's  respecting  our  ladies  was  that  he  had 
read  in  Guthrie's  Geography  that  the  aborigines  of  America 
were  all  savages;  and  not  exactly  understanding  the  word 
aborigines,  he  applied  to  one  of  his  fellow  apprentices,  who 
assured  him  that  it  was  the  Latin  word  for  inhabitants. 

"Wizard  used  to  tell  another  anecdote  of  Straddle,  which 
always  put  him  in  a  passion.  Will  swore  that  the  captain  of 
the  ship  told  him  that  when  Straddle  heard  they  were  off  the 
banks  of  Newfoundland,  he  insisted  upon  going  on  shore 
there  to  gather  some  good  cabbages,  of  which  he  was  exces- 
sively fond  ;  Straddle,  however,  denied  all  this,  and  declared 
it  to  be  a  mischievous  quiz  of  Will  Wizard  :  who  indeed  often 
made  himself  merry  at  his  expense.  However  this  may  be, 
certain  it  is  he  kept  his  tailor  and  shoemaker  constantly  em- 
ployed for  a  month  before  his  departure;  equipped  himself 
with  a  smart  crooked  stick  about  eighteen  inches  long,  a  pair 
of  breeches  of  most  unheard-of  length,  a  little  short  pair  of 
Hoby's  white-topped  boots,  that  seemed  to  stand  on  tip-  toe 
to  reach  his  breeches,  and  his  hat  had  the  true  transatlantic 
declination  toward  his  right  ear.  The  fact  was  —  nor  did  he 
make  any  secret  of  it  —  he  was  determined  to  "astonish  the 
natives  a  few!" 

Straddle  was  not  a  little  disappointed  on  his  arrival  to 
find  the  Americans  were  rather  more  civilized  than  he  had 
imagined.  He  was  suffered  to  walk  to  his  lodgings  un- 
molested by  a  crowd,  and  even  unnoticed  by  a  single  indi- 
vidual. No  love  letters  came  pouring  in  upon  him;  no 
rivals  lay  in  wait  to  assassinate  him  ;  his  very  dress  excited 
no  attention,  for  there  were  many  fools  dressed  equally 
ridiculously  with  himself.  This  was  mortifying  indeed  to 
an  aspiring  youth,  who  had  come  out  with  the  idea  of  as- 
tonishing and  captivating.  He  was  equally  unfortunate  in 
his  pretensions  to  the  character  of  critic,  connoisseur  and 
boxer;  he  condemned  our  whole  dramatic  corps  and  every- 


Sal/na$ui)di  171 

thing  appearing  to  the  theater;  but  his  critical  abilities  were 
ridiculed — he  found  fault  with  old  Cockloft's  dinner,  not 
even  sparing  his  wine,  and  was  never  invited  to  the  house 
afterward.  He  scoured  the  streets  at  night  and  was  cud- 
geled by  a  sturdy  watchman;  he  hoaxed  an  honest  mechanio 
and  was  soundly  kicked.  Thus  disappointed  in  all  his  at- 
tempts at  notoriety,  Straddle  hit  on  the  expedient  which  was 
resorted  to  by  the  Giblets — he  determined  to  take  the  town 
by  storm. — He  accordingly  bought  horses  and  equipages 
and  forthwith  made  a  furious  dash  at  style  in  a  gig  and 
tandem. 

As  Straddle's  finances  were  but  limited,  it  may  easily  be 
supposed  that  his  fashionable  career  infringed  a  little  upon 
his  consignment,  which  was  indeed  the  case,  for,  to  use  a 
true  cockney  phrase,  Brummagem  suffered.  But  this  was 
a  circumstance  that  made  little  impression  upon  Straddle, 
who  was  now  a  lad  of  spirit,  and  lads  of  spirit  always  despise 
the  sordid  cares  of  keeping  another  man's  money.  Suspect- 
ing this  circumstance,  I  never  could  witness  any  of  his  ex- 
hibitions of  style  without  some  whimsical  association  of 
ideas.  Did  he  give  an  entertainment  to  a  host  of  guzzling 
friends,  I  immediately  fancied  them  gormandizing  heartily 
at  the  expense  of  poor  Birmingham,  and  swallowing  a  con- 
signment of  hand-saws  and  razors.  Did  I  behold  him  dash- 
ing through  Broadway  in  his  gig  I  saw  him,  **in  my  mind's 
eye,"  driving  tandem  on  a  nest  of  tea-boards;  nor  could  I 
ever  contemplate  his  cockney  exhibitions  of  horsemanship, 
but  my  mischievous  imagination  would  picture  him  spurring 
a  cask  of  hardware,  like  rosy  Bacchus  bestriding  a  beer 
barrel,  or  the  little  gentleman  who  bestraddles  the  world  in 
the  front  of  Hutching's  almanac. 

Straddle  was  equally  successful  with  the  Giblets,  as  may 
well  be  supposed ;  for  though  pedestrian  merit  may  strive  in 
vain  to  become  fashionable  in  Gotham,  yet  a  candidate  in 
an  equipage  is  always  recognized,  and  like  Philip's  ass,  laden 
with  gold,  will  gain  admittance  everywhere.  Mounted  in 
his  curricle  or  his  gig,  the  candidate  is  like  a  statue  elevated 


172  U7orK8  of 

on  a  high  pedestal :  his  merits  are  discernible  from  afar,  and 
strike  the  dullest  optics.  Oh!  Gotham,  Gotham!  most  en- 
lightened of  cities! — how  does  my  heart  swell  with  delight 
when  I  behold  your  sapient  inhabitants  lavishing  their  atten- 
tion with  such  wonderful  discernment ! 

Thus  Straddle  became  quite  a  man  of  ton,  and  was  ca- 
ressed, and  courted,  and  invited  to  dinners  and  balls.  "What- 
ever was  absurd  or  ridiculous  in  him  before  was  now  declared 
to  be  the  style.  He  criticised  our  theater  and  was  listened 
to  with  reverence.  He  pronounced  our  musical  entertain- 
ments barbarous;  and  the  judgment  of  Apollo  himself  would 
not  have  been  more  decisive.  He  abused  our  dinners;  and 
the  god  of  eating,  if  there  be  any  such  deity,  seemed  to  speak 
through  his  organs.  He  became  at  once  a  man  of  taste,  for 
he  put  his  malediction  on  everything;  and  his  arguments 
were  conclusive,  for  he  supported  every  assertion  with  a  bet. 
He  was  likewise  pronounced,  by  the  learned  in  the  fashion- 
able world,  a  young  man  of  great  research  and  deep  observa- 
tion ;  for  he  had  sent  home,  as  natural  curiosities,  an  ear  of 
Indian  corn,  a  pair  of  moccasins,  a  belt  of  wampum  and  a 
four-leafed  clover.  He  had  taken  great  pains  to  enrich  this 
curious  collection  with  an  Indian,  and  a  cataract,  but  with- 
out success.  In  fine,  the  people  talked  of  Straddle  and  his 
equipage,  and  Straddle  talked  to  his  horses,  until  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  most  critical  observer  to  pronounce  whether 
Straddle  or  his  horses  were  most  admired,  or  whether  Straddle 
admired  himself  or  his  horses  most. 

Straddle  was  now  in  the  zenith  of  his  glory.  He  swag- 
gered about  parlors  and  dra whig-rooms  with  the  same  un- 
ceremonious confidence  he  used  to  display  in  the  taverns  at 
Birmingham.  He  accosted  a  lady  as  he  would  a  barmaid ; 
and  this  was  pronounced  a  certain  proof  that  he  had  been 
used  to  better  company  in  Birmingham.  He  became  the 
great  man  of  all  the  taverns  between  New  York  and  Harlem, 
and  no  one  stood  a  chance  of  being  accommodated  until 
Straddle  and  his  horses  were  perfectly  satisfied.  He  d — d 
the  landlords  and  waiters  with  the  best  air  in  the  world,  and 


173 

accosted  them  with  the  true  gentlemanly  familiarity.  He 
staggered  from  the  dinner  table  to  the  play,  entered  the  box 
like  a  tempest,  and  stayed  long  enough  to  be  bored  to  death, 
and  to  bore  all  those  who  had  the  misfortune  to  be  near  him. 
From  thence  he  dashed  off  to  a  ball,  time  enough  to  flounder 
through  a  cotilion,  tear  half  a  dozen  gowns,  commit  a  num- 
ber of  other  depredations,  and  make  the  whole  company 
sensible  of  his  infinite  condescension  in  coming  among  them. 
The  people  of  Gotham  thought  him  a  prodigious  fine  fellow ; 
the  young  bucks  cultivated  his  acquaintance  with  the  most 
persevering  assiduity,  and  his  retainers  were  sometimes  com- 
plimented with  a  seat  in  his  curricle  or  a  ride  on  one  of  his 
fine  horses.  The  belles  were  delighted  with  the  attentions 
of  such  a  fashionable  gentleman,  and  struck  with  astonish- 
ment at  his  learned  distinctions  between  wrought  scissors 
and  those  of  cast-steel ;  together  with  his  profound  disserta- 
tions on  buttons  and  horseflesh.  The  rich  merchants  courted 
his  acquaintance  because  he  was  an  Englishman,  and  their 
wives  treated  him  with  great  deference  because  he  had  come 
from  beyond  seas.  I  cannot  help  here  observing  that  your 
salt  water  is  a  marvelous  great  sharpener  of  men's  wits,  and 
I  intend  to  recommend  it  to  some  of  my  acquaintance  in  a 
particular  essay. 

Straddle  continued  his  brilliant  career  for  only  a  short 
tune.  His  prosperous  journey  over  the  turnpike  of  fashion 
was  checked  by  some  of  those  stumbling  blocks  in  the  way 
of  aspiring  youth,  called  creditors — or  duns — a  race  of  people 
who,  as  a  celebrated  writer  observes,  "are  hated  by  gods  and 
men."  Consignments  slackened,  whispers  of  distant  sus- 
picion floated  in  the  dark,  and  those  pests  of  society,  the 
tailors  and  shoemakers,  rose  in  rebellion  against  Straddle. 
In  vain  were  all  his  remonstrances,  in  vain  did  he  prove  to 
them  that  though  he  had  given  them  no  money,  yet  he  had 
given  them  more  custom  and  as  many  promises  as  any 
young  man  in  the  city.  They  were  inflexible,  and  the 
signal  of  danger  being  given,  a  host  of  other  prosecutors 
pounced  upon  his  back.  Straddle  saw  there  was  but  one 


174  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$toi) 

way  for  it ;  he  determined  to  do  the  thing  genteelly,  to  go  to 
smash  like  a  hero,  and  dashed  into  the  limits  in  high  style, 
being  the  fifteenth  gentleman  I  have  known  to  drive  tandem 
to  the — ne  plus  ultra — the  d — 1. 

Unfortunate  Straddle !  may  thy  fate  be  a  warning  to  all 
young  gentlemen  who  come  out  from  Birmingham  to  astonish 
the  natives !  I  should  never  have  taken  the  trouble  to  de- 
lineate his  character  had  he  not  been  a  genuine  cockney, 
and  worthy  to  be  the  representative  of  his  numerous  tribe. 
Perhaps  my  simple  countrymen  may  hereafter  be  able  to 
distinguish  between  the  real  English  gentleman  and  indi- 
viduals of  the  cast  I  have  heretofore  spoken  of  as  mere  mon- 
grels, springing  at  one  bound  from  contemptible  obscurity 
at  home  to  daylight  and  splendor  in  this  good-natured  land. 
The  true-born  and  true-bred  English  gentleman  is  a  char- 
acter I  hold  in  great  respect ;  and  I  love  to  look  back  to  the 
period  when  our  forefathers  nourished  in  the  same  generous 
soil  and  hailed  each  other  as  brothers.  But  the  cockney! 
When  I  contemplate  him  as  springing  too  from  the  same 
source,  I  feel  ashamed  of  the  relationship  and  am  tempted  to 
deny  my  origin.  In  the  character  of  Straddle  is  traced  the 
complete  outline  of  a  true  cockney  of  English  growth,  and  a 
descendant  of  that  individual  facetious  character  mentioned 
by  Shakespeare,  "who,  in  pure  kindness  to  his  horse, 
buttered  his  hay." 


THE   STE ANGER    AT  HOME;    OR,    A    TOUR   IA 
BROADWAY 

BY   JEREMY   COCKLOFT,    THE   YOUNGER 


PREFACE 

YOUR  learned  traveler  begins  his  travels  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  journey ;  others  begin  theirs  at  the  end ;  and  a 
third  class  begin  any  how  and  any  where,  which  I  think  is 


Salma^urjdl  175 

the  true  way.  A  late  facetious  writer  begins  what  he  calls 
"a  Picture  of  New  York,"  with  a  particular  description  of 
Glens  Falls,  from  whence  with  admirable  dexterity  he 
makes  a  digression  to  the  celebrated  Mill  Bock,  on  Long 
Island  I  Now  this  is  what  I  like ;  and  I  intend,  in  my  present 
tour,  to  digress  as  often  and  as  long  as  I  please.  If,  there- 
fore, I  choose  to  make  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  to  China,  or 
New  Holland,  or  Terra  Incognita,  or  Communipaw,  I  can 
produce  a  host  of  examples  to  justify  me,  even  in  books  that 
have  been  praised  by  the  English  reviewers,  whose  fiat  being 
all  that  is  necessary  to  give  books  a  currency  in  this  country, 
I  am  determined,  as  soon  as  I  finish  my  edition  of  travels  in 
seventy-five  volumes,  to  transmit  it  forthwith  to  them  for 
judgment.  If  these  transatlantic  censors  praise  it,  I  have  no 
fear  of  its  success  in  this  country,  where  their  approbation 
gives,  like  the  Tower  stamp,  a  fictitious  value,  and  make 
tinsel  and  wampum  pass  current  for  classic  gold. 


CHAPTER  ONE 

BATTERY  —  flagstaff  kept  by  Louis  Keaffee  —  Keaffee 
maintains  two  spyglasses  by  subscriptions — merchants  pay 
two  shillings  a  year  to  look  through  them  at  the  signal  poles 
on  Staten  Island — a  very  pleasant  prospect;  but  not  so 
pleasant  as  that  from  the  hill  of  Howth — query,  ever  been 
there?  Young  seniors  go  down  to  the  flagstaff  to  buy  pea- 
nuts and  beer,  after  the  fatigue  of  their  morning  studies,  and 
sometimes  to  play  at  ball,  or  some  other  innocent  amusement 
— digression  to  the  Olympic,  and  Isthmian  games,  with  a 
description  of  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth,  and  that  of  Darien: 
to  conclude  with  a  dissertation  on  the  Indian  custom  of 
offering  a  whiff  of  tobacco  smoke  to  their  great  spirit, 
Areskou. — Return  to  the  Battery — delightful  place  to  in- 
dulge in  the  luxury  of  sentiment.  How  various  are  the 
mutations  of  this  world !  but  a  few  days,  a  few  hours — at 
least  not  above  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  this  spot  was 


176  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii7$tor)  Iruir?$ 

inhabited  by  a  race  of  aborigines,  who  dwelt  in  bark  huts, 
lived  upon  oysters  and  Indian  corn,  danced  buffalo  dances, 
and  were  lords  "of  the  fowl  and  the  brute."  But  the  spirit 
of  time  and  the  spirit  of  brandy  have  swept  them  from  their 
ancient  inheritance ;  and  as  the  white  wave  of  the  ocean,  by 
its  ever  toiling  assiduity,  gams  on  the  brown  land,  so  the 
white  man,  by  slow  and  sure  degrees,  has  gained  on  the 
brown  savage,  and  dispossessed  him  of  the  land  of  his  fore- 
fathers.— Conjectures  on  the  first  peopling  of  America — 
different  opinions  on  that  subject,  to  the  amount  of  near  one 
hundred :  opinion  of  Augustine  Tornier,  that  they  are  the 
descendants  of  Shem  and  Japheth,  who  came  by  the  way  of 
Japan  to  America — Juffridius  Petri  says  they  came  from 
Friezland,  mem.  cold  journey — Mons.  Charron  says  they  are 
descended  from  the  Gauls — bitter  enough — A.  Milius,  from 
the  CeltsB — Kircher,  from  the  Egyptians — L'Compte,  from 
the  Phenicians — Lescarbot,  from  the  Canaanites,  alias  the 
Anthropophagi  —  Brerewood,  from  the  Tartars  —  Grotius, 
from  the  Norwegians — and  Linkum  Fidelius  has  written  two 
folio  volumes  to  prove  that  America  was  first  of  all  peopled 
either  by  the  antipodeans  or  the  Cornish  miners,  who,  he 
maintains,  might  easily  have  made  a  subterranean  passage 
to  this  country,  particularly  the  antipodeans,  who,  he  as- 
serts, can  get  along  under  ground  as  fast  as  moles — query, 
which  of  these  is  in  the  right,  or  are  they  all  wrong?  For 
my  part,  I  don't  see  why  America  had  not  as  good  a  right 
to  be  peopled  at  first,  as  any  little  contemptible  country  in 
Europe,  or  Asia;  and  I  am  determined  to  write  a  book  at 
my  first  leisure,  to  prove  that  Noah  was  born  here — and  that 
BO  far  is  America  from  being  indebted  to  any  other  country 
for  inhabitants,  that  they  were  every  one  of  them  peopled  by 
eolonies  from  her! — mem.  Battery  a  very  pleasant  place  to 
walk  on  a  Sunday  evening — not  quite  genteel  though — every- 
body walks  there,  and  a  pleasure,  however  genuine,  is  spoiled 
by  general  participation — the  fashionable  ladies  of  New 
York  turn  up  their  noses  if  you  ask  them  to  walk  on  the 
Battery  on  Sunday — query,  have  they  scruples  of  conscience, 


177 

or  scruples  of  delicacy?    Neither — they  have  only  scruples 
of  gentility,  which  are  quite  different  things. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

CUSTOM-HOUSE — origin  of  duties  on  merchandise — this 
place  much  frequented  by  merchants — and  why? — different 
classes  of  merchants — importers—a  kind  of  nobility — whole- 
sale merchants — have  the  privilege  of  going  to  the  city  as- 
sembly!— Retail  traders  cannot  go  to  the  assembly. — Some 
curious  speculations  on  the  vast  distinction  betwixt  selling 
tape  by  the  piece  or  by  the  yard. — Wholesale  merchants  look 
down  upon  the  retailers,  who  in  return  look  down  upon  the 
green-grocers,  who  look  down  upon  the  market-women,  who 
don't  care  a  straw  about  any  of  them. — Origin  of  the  distinc- 
tions of  rank — Dr.  Johnson  once  horribly  puzzled  to  settle 
the  point  of  precedence  between  a  louse  and  a  flea — good 
hint  enough  to  humble  purse-proud  arrogance. — Custom- 
house partly  used  as  a  lodging  house  for  the  pictures  belong- 
ing to  the  Academy  of  Arts — couldn't  afford  the  statues 
house-room,  most  of  them  in  the  cellar  of  the  City  Hall — 
poor  place  for  the  gods  and  goddesses — after  Olympus. — 
Pensive  reflections  on  the  ups  and  downs  of  life — Apollo, 
and  the  rest  of  the  set,  used  to  cut  a  great  figure  in  days 
of  yore. — Mem.,  every  dog  has  his  day — sorry  for  Venus 
though,  poor  wench,  to  be  cooped  up  in  a  cellar  with  not  f 
single  grace  to  wait  on  her! — Eulogy  on  the  gentlemen  of 
the  Academy  of  Arts  for  the  great  spirit  with  which  they 
began  the  undertaking,  and  the  perseverance  with  which 
they  have  pursued  it.  It  is  a  pity,  however,  they  began  at 
the  wrong  end.  Maxim — If  you  want  a  bird  and  a  cage, 
always  buy  the  cage  first — hem ! — a  word  to  the  wise ! 


178  U/orKs  of  UYa8l?ir)$toi) 


CHAPTER  THREE 

BOWLING  GREEN — fine  place  for  pasturing  cows — a  per- 
quisite of  the  late  corporation — formerly  ornamented  with  a 
statue  of  George  the  Third — people  pulled  it  down  in  the  war 
to  make  bullets — great  pity;  it  might  have  been  given  to  the 
Academy — it  would  have  become  a  cellar  as  well  as  any 
other.— Broadway — great  difference  in  the  gentility  of  streets 
— a  man  who  resides  in  Pearl  Street,  or  Chatham  Row,  de- 
rives no  kind  of  dignity  from  his  domicile ;  but  place  him  in 
a  certain  part  of  Broadway,  anywhere  between  the  Battery 
and  Wall  Street,  and  he  straightway  becomes  entitled  to 
figure  in  the  beau  monde  and  strut  as  a  person  of  prodigious 
consequence ! — Query,  whether  there  is  a  degree  of  purity  in 
the  air  of  that  quarter  which  changes  the  gross  particles  of 
vulgarity  into  gems  of  refinement  and  polish?  A  question 
to  be  asked,  but  not  to  be  answered. — "Wall  Street,— City 
Hall,  famous  place  for  catch-poles,  deputy-sheriffs,  and 
young  lawyers;  which  last  attend  the  courts,  not  because 
they  have  business  there,  but  because  they  have  no  busi- 
ness anywhere  else.  My  blood  always  curdles  when  I  see 
a  catch-pole,  they  being  a  species  of  vermin  who  feed  and 
fatten  on  the  common  wretchedness  of  mankind,  who  trade 
in  misery,  and  in  becoming  the  executioners  of  the  law,  by 
their  oppression  and  villainy  almost  counterbalance  all  the 
benefits  which  are  derived  from  its  salutary  regulations. — 
Story  of  Quevedo  about  a  catch-pole  possessed  by  a  devil, 
who,  on  being  interrogated,  declared  that  he  did  not  come 
there  voluntarily,  but  by  compulsion;  and  that  a  decent 
devil  would  never  of  his  own  freewill  enter  into  the  body  of 
a  catch-pole;  insteal,  therefore,  of  doing  him  the  injustice 
to  say  that  here  was  a  catch-pole  be-deviled,  they  should  say 
it  was  a  devil  be-catch-poled ;  that  being  in  reality  the  truth. 
Wonder  what  has  become  of  the  old  crier  of  the  court,  who 
used  to  make  more  noise  in  preserving  silence  than  the  audi- 


179 

ence  did  in  breaking  it — if  a  man  happened  to  drop  his  cane 
the  old  hero  would  sing  out  "silence!"  in  a  voice  that  emu- 
lated the  "wide-mouthed  thunder" — On  inquiring,  found  he 
had  retired  from  business  to  enjoy  otium  cum  dignitate,  as 
many  a  great  man  had  done  before — Strange  that  wise  men, 
as  they  are  thought,  should  toil  through  a  whole  existence 
merely  to  enjoy  a  few  moments  of  leisure  at  last!  why  don't 
they  begin  to  be  easy  at  first,  and  not  purchase  a  moment's 
pleasure  with  an  age  of  pain? — mem.  posed  some  of  the 
jockeys — eh ! 

CHAPTER  FOUR 

BARBER'S  pole;  three  different  orders  of  shavers  in  New 
York — those  who  shave  pigs;  N.B.  freshmen  and  sopho- 
mores— those  who  cut  beards,  and  those  who  shave  notes  of 
hand;  the  last  are  the  most  respectable,  because  in  the  course 
of  a  year  they  make  more  money,  and  that  honestly,  than 
the  whole  corps  of  other  shavers  can  do  in  half  a  century ; 
besides,  it  would  puzzle  a  common  barber  to  ruin  any  man, 
except  by  cutting  his  throat :  whereas  your  higher  order  of 
shavers,  your  true  blood-suckers  of  the  community,  seated 
snugly  behind  the  curtain,  in  watch  for  prey,  live  on  the 
vitals  of  the  unfortunate,  and  grow  rich  on  the  rum  of  thou- 
sands.— Yet  this  last  class  of  barbers  are  held  in  high  respect 
in  the  world ;  they  never  offend  against  the  decencies  of  life, 
go  often  to  church,  look  down  on  honest  poverty  walking  on 
foot,  and  call  themselves  gentlemen;  yea,  men  of  honor  I  — 
Lottery  offices — another  set  of  capital  shavers!— licensed 
gambling  houses! — good  things  enough  though,  as  they  en- 
able a  few  honest,  industrious  gentlemen  to  humbug  the 
people — according  to  law;  besides,  if  the  people  will  be  such 
fools,  whose  fault  is  it  but  their  own  if  they  get  bit? — 
Messrs.  Paff — beg  pardon  for  putting  them  in  such  bad  com- 
pany, because  they  are  a  couple  of  fine  fellows — mem.  to 
recommend  Michael's  antique  snuff-box  to  all  amateurs  in 
the  art. — Eagle  singing  Yankee  Doodle  —  N.B. — Buff  on, 


180  ll/orl^s  of 

Penant,  and  the  rest  of  the  naturalists,  all  naturals  not  to 
know  the  eagle  was  a  singing  bird;  Linkum  Fidelius  knew 
better,  and  gives  a  long  description  of  a  bald  eagle  that 
serenaded  him  once  in  Canada; — digression;  particular  ac- 
count of  the  Canadian  Indians ; — story  about  Areskou  learn- 
ing to  make  fishing  nets  of  a  spider — don't  believe  it  though, 
because,  according  to  Linkum,  and  many  other  learned 
authorities,  Areskou  is  the  same  as  Mars,  being  derived 
from  his  Greek  name  of  Ares;  and  if  so,  he  knew  well 
enough  what  a  net  was  without  consulting  a  spider ; — story 
of  Arachne  being  changed  into  a  spider  as  a  reward  for  hav- 
ing hanged  herself; — derivation  of  the  word  spinster  from 
spider; — Colophon,  now  Altobosco,  the  birthplace  of  Arach- 
ne, remarkable  for  a  famous  breed  of  spiders  to  this  day; 
— mem. — nothing  like  a  little  scholarship — make  the  igno- 
'ramus,  viz.,  the  majority  of  my  readers,  stare  like  wild 
pigeons; — return  to  New  York  a  short  cut — meet  a  dashing 
belle,  in  a  little  thick  white  veil — tried  to  get  a  peep  at  her 
face — saw  she  squinted  a  little — thought  so  at  first; — never 
saw  a  face  covered  with  a  veil  that  was  worth  looking  at; — 
saw  some  ladies  holding  a  conversation  across  the  street 
about  going  to  church  next  Sunday — talked  so  loud  they 
frightened  a  cartman's  horse,  who  ran  away  and  overset  a 
basket  of  gingerbread  with  a  little  boy  under  it; — mem.  I 
don't  much  see  the  use  of  speaking-trumpets  nowadays. 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

BOUGHT  a  pair  of  gloves;  dry-goods  stores  the  genuine 
schools  of  politeness — true  Parisian  manners  there — got  a 
pair  of  gloves  and  a  pistareen's  worth  of  bows  for  a  dollar 
—dog  cheap! — Cortlandt  Street  corner — famous  place  to  see 
the  belles  go  by — query,  ever  been  shopping  with  a  lady? — 
gome  account  of  it — ladies  go  into  all  the  shops  in  the  city  to 
buy  a  pair  of  gloves — good  way  of  spending  tune,  if  they 
have  nothing  else  to  do. — Oswego  Market — looks  very  much 


Salma$ui?df  181 

like  a  triumphal  arch — some  account  of  the  manner  of  erect- 
ing them  in  ancient  times; — digression  to  the  arch-duke 
Charles,  and  some  account  of  the  ancient  Germans. — N.B. 
— Quote  Tacitus  on  this  subject. — Particular  description  of 
market-baskets,  butchers'  blocks,  and  wheelbarrows: — mem., 
queer  things  run  upon  one  wheel  1 — Saw  a  cartman  driving 
full-tilt  through  Broadway — run  over  a  child — good  enough 
for  it — what  business  had  it  to  be  in  the  way? — Hint  concern- 
ing the  laws  against  pigs,  goats,  dogs,  and  cartmen — grand 
apostrophe  to  the  sublime  science  of  jurisprudence ;— com- 
parison between  legislators  and  tinkers;  query,  whether  it 
requires  greater  ability  to  mend  a  law  than  to  mend  a  kettle? 
— inquiry  into  the  utility  of  making  laws  that  are  broken  a 
hundred  times  in  a  day  with  impunity; — my  Lord  Coke's 
opinion  on  the  subject :  my  lord  a  very  great  man — so  was 
Lord  Bacon :  good  story  about  a  criminal  named  Hog  claim- 
ing relationship  with  him.  —  Hogg's  porter-house;  —  great 
haunt  of  Will  Wizard;  Will  put  down  there  one  night  by 
a  sea  captain,  in  an  argument  concerning  the  era  of  the 
Chinese  empire  Whangpo;— Hogg's  a  capital  place  for  hear- 
ing the  same  stories,  the  same  jokes,  and  the  same  songs 
every  night  in  the  year — mem.,  except  Sunday  nights;  fine 
school  for  young  politicians  too — some  of  the  longest  and 
thickest  heads  in  the  city  come  there  to  settle  the  nation. — 
Scheme  of  Ichabod  Fungus  to  restore  the  balance  of  Europe; 
— digression ; — some  account  of  the  balance  of  Europe ;  com- 
parison between  it  and  a  pair  of  scales,  with  the  Emperor 
Alexander  hi  one  and  the  Emperor  Napoleon  in  the  other: 
fine  fellows — both  of  a  weight,  can't  tell  which  will  kick  the 
beam: — mem.,  don't  care  much  either — nothing  to  me:— 
Ichabod  very  unhappy  about  it — thinks  Napoleon  has  an 
eye  on  this  country — capital  place  to  pasture  his  horses,  and 
provide  for  the  rest  of  his  family. — Dey  Street — ancient 
Dutch  name  of  it,  signifying  murderers'  valley,  formerly 
the  site  of  a  great  peach  orchard ;  my  grandmother's  his- 
tory of  the  famous  Peach  war — arose  from  an  Indian  steal- 
ing peaches  out  of  this  orchard ;  good  cause  as  need  be  for 


182  U/orl(8  of 

a  war;  just  as  good  as  the  balance  of  power.  Anecdote  of  a 
war  between  two  Italian  states  about  a  bucket;  introduce 
some  capital  new  truisms  about  the  folly  of  mankind,  the 
ambition  of  kings,  potentates,  and  princes;  particularly  Alex- 
ander, Csesar,  Charles  the  Xllth,  Napoleon,  little  King  Pepin, 
and  the  great  Charlemagne. — Conclude  with  an  exhortation 
to  the  present  race  of  sovereigns  to  keep  the  king's  peace  and 
abstain  from  all  those  deadly  quarrels  which  produce  battle, 
murder,  and  sudden  death;  mem.,  ran  my  nose  against  a, 
lamp-post — conclude  in  great  dudgeon. 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

OUB  cousin  Pindar,  after  having  been  confined  for  some 
time  past  with  a  fit  of  the  gout,  which  is  a  kind  of  keepsake 
in  our  family,  has  again  set  his  mill  going,  as  my  readers 
will  perceive.  On  reading  his  piece  I  could  not  help  smil- 
ing at  the  high  compliments  which,  contrary  to  his  usual 
style,  he  has  lavished  on  the  dear  sex.  The  old  gentleman, 
unfortunately  observing  my  merriment,  stumped  out  of  the 
room  with  great  vociferation  of  crutch,  and  has  not  ex- 
changed three  words  with  me  since.  I  expect  every  hour  to 
hear  that  he  has  packed  up  his  movables,  and,  as  usual  in 
all  cases  of  disgust,  retreated  to  his  old  country  house. 

Pindar,  like  most  of  the  old  Cockloft  heroes,  is  wonder- 
fully susceptible  to  the  genial  influence  of  warm  weather. 
In  winter  he  is  one  of  the  most  crusty  old  bachelors  under 
heaven,  and  is  wickedly  addicted  to  sarcastic  reflections  of 
every  kind ;  particularly  on  the  little  enchanting  foibles  and 
whim- whams  of  women.  But  when  the  spring  comes  on, 
and  the  mild  influence  of  the  sun  releases  nature  from  her 
icy  fetters,  the  ice  of  his  bosom  dissolves  into  a  gentle  current 
which  reflects  the  bewitching  qualities  of  the  fair;  as  hi  some 
mild  clear  evening,  when  nature  reposes  in  silence,  the  stream 
bears  in  its  pure  bosom  all  the  starry  magnificence  of  heaven. 
It  is  under  the  control  of  this  influence  he  has  written  his 


Salma^updi  183 

piece ;  and  I  beg  the  ladies,  in  the  plenitude  of  their  harm- 
less conceit,  not  to  flatter  themselves  that  because  the  good 
Pindar  has  suffered  them  to  escape  his  censures  he  had  noth- 
ing more  to  censure.  It  is  but  sunshine  and  zephyrs  which 
have  wrought  this  wonderful  change ;  and  I  am  much  mis- 
taken if  the  first  northeaster  don't  convert  all  his  good  nature 
into  most  exquisite  spleen. 


FROM  THE  MILL  OF  PINDAR    COCKLOFT,   ESQ. 

How  often  I  cast  my  reflections  behind, 
And  call  up  the  days  of  past  youth  to  my  mind, 
When  folly  assails  in  habiliments  new, 
"When  fashion  obtrudes  some  fresh  whim- wham  to  view ; 
When  the  foplings  of  fashion  bedazzle  my  sight, 
Bewilder  my  feelings — my  senses  benight; 
I  retreat  in  disgust  from  the  world  of  to-day, 
To  commune  with  the  world  that  has  moulder'd  away; 
To  converse  with  the  shades  of  those  friends  of  my  love, 
Long  gathered  in  peace  to  the  angels  above. 

In  my  rambles  through  life  should  I  meet  with  annoy, 
From  the  bold  beardless  stripling— the  turbid  pert  boy — 
One  rear'd  in  the  mode  lately  reckon'd  genteel, 
Which,  neglecting  the  head,  aims  to  perfect  the  heel ; 
Which  completes  the  sweet  fopling  while  yet  in  his  teens. 
And  fits  him  for  fashion's  light  changeable  scenes; 
Proclaims  him  a  man  to  the  near  and  the  far, 
Can  he  dance  a  cotilion  or  smoke  a  cigar ; 
And  though  brainless  and  vapid  as  vapid  can  be, 
To  routs  and  to  parties  pronounces  him  free : — 
Oh,  I  think  on  the  beaux  that  existed  of  yore, 
On  those  rules  of  the  ton  that  exist  now  no  morel 

I  recall  with  delight  how  each  yonker  at  first 
In  the  cradle  of  science  and  virtue  was  nursed ; 
— How  the  graces  of  person  and  graces  of  mind, 
The  polish  of  learning  and  fashion  combined. 


184  U/orl^s  of 

Till  softened  in  manners  and  strengthened  in  head, 
By  the  classical  lore  of  the  living  and  dead, 
Matured  in  his  person  till  manly  hi  size, 
He  then  was  presented  a  beau  to  our  eyes ! 

My  nieces  of  late  have  made  frequent  complaint 
That  they  suffer  vexation  and  painful  constraint 
By  having  their  circles  too  often  distressed 
By  some  three  or  four  goslings  just  fledged  from  the  nest, 
"Who,  propp'd  by  the  credit  their  fathers  sustain, 
Alike  tender  hi  years  and  hi  person  and  brain, 
But  plenteously  stock'd  with  that  substitute,  brass, 
For  true  wits  and  critics  would  anxiously  pass. 
They  complain  of  that  empty  sarcastical  slang, 
So  common  to  all  the  coxcombical  gang, 
Who  the  fair  with  their  shallow  experience  vex, 
By  thrumming  forever  their  weakness  of  sex ; 
And  who  boast  of  themselves,  when  they  talk  with  proud  air 
Of  Man's  mental  ascendency  over  the  fair. 

'Twas  thus  the  young  owlet  produced  in  the  nest, 
Where  the  eagle  of  Jove  her  young  eaglets  had  prest, 
Pretended  to  boast  of  his  royal  descent, 
And  vaunted  that  force  which  to  eagles  is  lent. 
Though  fated  to  shun  with  his  dim  visual  ray 
The  cheering  delights  and  the  brilliance  of  day; 
To  forsake  the  fair  regions  of  ether  and  light 
For  dull  moping  caverns  of  darkness  and  night : 
Still  talk'd  of  that  eagle-like  strength  of  the  eye, 
Which  approaches  unwinking  the  pride  of  the  sky, 
Of  that  wing  which  unwearied  can  hover  and  play 
In  the  noontide  effulgence  and  torrent  of  day. 

Dear  girls,  the  sad  evils  of  which  ye  complain, 
Your  sex  must  endure  from  the  feeble  and  vain, 
'Tis  the  commonplace  jest  of  the  nursery  scapegoat, 
'Tis  the  commonplace  ballad  that  croaks  from  his  throat; 
He  knows  not  that  nature — that  polish  decrees, 
That  women  should  always  endeavor  to  please: 
That  the  law  of  their  system  has  early  imprest 


Salma$ui?df  185 

The  importance  of  fitting  themselves  to  each  guest ; 
And,  of  course,  that  full  oft  when  ye  trifle  and  play, 
'Tis  to  gratify  triflers  who  strut  in  your  way. 
The  child  might  as  well  of  its  mother  complain, 
As  wanting  true  wisdom  and  soundness  of  brain : 
Because  that,  at  times,  while  it  hangs  on  her  breast, 
She  with  "lulla-by-baby"  beguiles  it  to  rest. 
'Tis  its  weakness  of  mind  that  induces  the  strain, 
For  wisdom  to  infants  is  prattled  in  vain. 

'Tis  true  at  odd  times,  when  in  frolicsome  fit, 
In  the  midst  of  his  gambols,  the  mischievous  wit 
May  start  some  light  foible  that  clings  to  the  fair, 
Like  cobwebs  that  fasten  to  objects  most  rare — 
In  the  play  of  his  fancy  will  sportively  say 
Some  delicate  censure  that  pops  in  his  way. 
He  may  smile  at  your  fashions,  and  frankly  express 
His  dislike  of  a  dance,  or  a  flaming  red  dress; 
Yet  he  blames  not  your  want  of  man's  physical  forces 
Nor  complains  though  ye  cannot  in  Latin  discourse. 
He  delights  in  the  language  of  nature  ye  speak, 
Though  not  so  refined  as  true  classical  Greek. 
He  remembers  that  Providence  never  design'd 
Our  females  like  suns  to  bewilder  and  blind ; 
But  like  the  mild  orb  of  pale  ev'ning  serene, 
Whose  radiance  illumines,  yet  softens  the  scene, 
To  light  us  with  cheering  and  welcoming  ray, 
Along  the  rude  path  when  the  sun  is  away. 

I  own  in  my  scribblings  I  lately  have  nam'd 
Some  faults  of  our  fair  which  I  gently  have  blam'd* 
But  be  it  forever  by  all  understood 
My  censures  were  only  pronounc'd  for  their  good. 
I  delight  in  the  sex,  'tis  the  pride  of  my  mind 
To  consider  them  gentle,  endearing,  refin'd; 
As  our  solace  below  in  the  journey  of  life, 
To  smooth  its  rough  passes ;  to  soften  its  strife : 
As  objects  intended  our  joys  to  supply, 
And  to  lead  us  in  love  to  the  temples  on  high. 


186  ll/or^s  of  U/asl?ii>$tor> 

How  oft  have  I  felt,  when  two  lucid  blue  eyes, 
As  calm  and  as  bright  as  the  gems  of  the  skies, 
Have  beam'd  their  soft  radiance  into  my  soul, 
Impress'd  with  an  awe  like  an  angel's  control! 

Yes,  fair  ones,  by  this  is  forever  defin'd 
The  fop  from  the  man  of  refinement  and  mind ; 
The  latter  believes  ye  in  bounty  were  given 
As  a  bond  upon  earth  of  our  union  with  heaven : 
And  if  ye  are  weak,  and  are  frail,  in  his  view, 
'Tis  to  call  forth  fresh  warmth  and  his  fondness  renew. 
'Tis  his  joy  to  support  these  defects  of  your  frame, 
And  his  love  at  your  weakness  redoubles  its  flame : 
He  rejoices  the  gem  is  so  rich  and  so  fair, 
And  is  proud  that  it  claims  his  protection  and  care. 


No.  XIII.— FRIDAY,   AUGUST    14,   1807 


FROM   MY   ELBOW-CHAIR 

I  WAS  not  a  little  perplexed,  a  short  time  since,  by  the 
eccentric  conduct  of  my  knowing  coadjutor,  Will  Wizard. 
For  two  or  three  days  he  was  completely  in  a  quandary. 
He  would  come  into  old  Cockloft's  parlor  ten  times  a  day, 
swinging  his  ponderous  legs  along  with  his  usual  vast  strides, 
clap  his  hands  into  his  sides,  contemplate  the  little  shep- 
herdesses on  the  mantel-piece  for  a  few  mintues,  whistling 
all  the  while,  and  then  sally  out  full  sweep,  without  uttering 
a  word.  To  be  sure,  a  pish  or  a  pshaw  occasionally  escaped 
him;  and  he  was  observed  once  to  pull  out  his  enormous 
tobacco-box,  drum  for  a  moment  upon  its  lid  with  his 
knuckles,  and  then  return  it  into  his  pocket  without  taking 
a  quid.  'Twas  evident  Will  was  full  of  some  mighty  idea. 
liTot  that  his  restlessness  was  any  way  uncommon ;  for  I  have 
Often  seen  Will  throw  himself  almost  into  a  fever  of  heat 


187 

and  fatigue — doing  nothing.  But  his  inflexible  taciturnity 
set  the  whole  family,  as  usual,  a  wondering :  as  "Will  seldom 
enters  the  house  without  giving  one  of  his  "one  thousand 
and  one"  stories.  For  my  part,  I  began  to  think  that  the 
late  fracas  at  Canton  had  alarmed  Will  for  the  safety  of  his 
friends  Kinglun,  Chinqua,  and  Consequa ;  or  that  something 
had  gone  wrong  in  the  alterations  of  the  theater;  or  that 
some  new  outrage  at  Norfolk  had  put  him  in  a  worry ;  in 
short,  I  did  not  know  what  to  think;  for  Will  is  such  a 
universal  busybody,  and  meddles  so  much  in  everything 
going  forward,  that  you  might  as  well  attempt  to  conjecture 
what  is  going  on  in  the  north  star  as  in  his  precious  peri- 
cranium. Even  Mrs.  Cockloft,  who,  like  a  worthy  woman 
as  she  is,  seldom  troubles  herself  about  anything  in  thig 
world — saving  the  affairs  of  her  household  and  the  correct 
deportment  of  her  female  friends — was  struck  with  the  mys- 
tery of  Will's  behavior.  She  happened,  when  he  came  in 
and  went  out  the  tenth  time,  to  be  busy  darning  the  bottom 
of  one  of  the  old  red  damask  chairs;  and  notwithstanding 
this  is  to  her  an  affair  of  vast  importance,  yet  she  could  not 
help  turning  round  and  exclaiming,  "I  wonder  what  can 
be  the  matter  with  Mr.  Wizard?" — "Nothing,"  replied  old 
Christopher,  "only  we  shall  have  an  eruption  soon.**  The 
old  lady  did  not  understand  a  word  of  this,  neither  did  she 
care;  she  had  expressed  her  wonder;  and  that,  with  her,  ia 
always  sufficient. 

I  am  so  well  acquainted  with  Will's  peculiarities  that  I 
can  tell,  even  by  his  whistle,  when  he  is  about  an  essay  for 
our  paper  as  certainly  as  a  weather  wiseacre  knows  that  it 
is  going  to  rain  when  he  sees  a  pig  run  squeaking  about  with 
his  nose  in  the  wind.  I,  therefore,  laid  my  account  with  re- 
ceiving a  communication  from  him  before  long;  and  sure 
enough,  the  evening  before  last  I  distinguished  his  free- 
mason knock  at  my  door.  I  have  seen  many  wise  men  in 
my  time,  philosophers,  mathematicians,  astronomers,  politi- 
cians, editors,  and  almanac  makers;  but  never  did  I  see  a 
man  look  half  so  wise  as  did  my  friend  Wizard  on  entering 


Z88  U/or^s  of  U7a8l?ii)<$toi) 

the  room.  Had  Lavater  beheld  him  at  that  moment  fie 
would  have  set  him  down,  to  a  certainty,  as  a  fellow  who 
had  just  discovered  the  longitude  or  the  philosopher's 
stone. 

Without  saying  a  word  he  handed  me  a  roll  of  paper; 
after  which  he  lighted  his  cigar,  sat  down,  crossed  his  legs, 
folded  his  arms,  and  elevating  his  nose  to  an  angle  of  about 
forty-five  degrees,  began  to  smoke  like  a  steam-engine.  Will 
delights  in  the  picturesque.  On  opening  his  budget,  and  per- 
ceiving the  motto,  it  struck  me  that  Will  had  brought  me 
one  of  his  confounded  Chinese  manuscripts,  and  I  was  forth- 
with going  to  dismiss  it  with  indignation;  but  accidentally 
seeing  the  name  of  our  oracle,  the  sage  Linkum,  of  whose 
inestimable  folios  we  pride  ourselves  upon  being  the  sole 
possessors,  I  began  to  think  the  better  of  it,  and  looked  round 
to  Will  to  express  my  approbation.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
figure  he  cut  at  that  moment !  He  had  watched  my  counte- 
nance, on  opening  his  manuscript,  with  the  argus  eyes  of  an 
author;  and  perceiving  some  tokens  of  disapprobation,  be- 
gan, according  to  custom,  to  puff  away  at  his  cigar  with 
Buch  vigor  that  in  a  few  minutes  he  had  entirely  involved 
himself  in  smoke;  except  his  nose  and  one  foot,  which  were 
just  visible,  the  latter  wagging  with  great  velocity.  I  be- 
lieve I  have  hinted  before — at  least  I  ought  to  have  done  so 
—that  Will's  nose  is  a  very  goodly  nose,  to  which  it  may  be 
as  well  to  add  that,  in  his  voyages  under  the  tropics,  it  has 
acquired  a  copper  complexion  which  renders  it  very  brilliant 
and  luminous.  You  may  imagine  what  a  sumptuous  appear- 
ance it  made,  projecting  boldly,  like  the  celebrated  promon- 
torium  nasidium  at  Samos  with  a  lighthouse  upon  it,  and 
surrounded  on  all  sides  with  smoke  and  vapor.  Had  my 
gravity  been  like  the  Chinese  philosopher's  "within  one  de- 
gree of  absolute  frigidity,"  here  would  have  been  a  trial  for 
it  I  could  not  stand  it,  but  burst  into  such  a  laugh  as  I  do 
jot  indulge  in  above  once  in  a  hundred  years.  This  was  too 
much  for  W  ill  j  he  emerged  from  his  cloud,  threw  his  cigar 
into  the  fireplace,  and  strode  out  of  the  room,  pulling  up  his 


Salffla$ui?dT  189 


breeches,  muttering  something  which,  I  verily  believe, 
nothing  more  than  a  horrible  long  Chinese  malediction. 

He,  however,  left  his  manuscript  behind  him,  which  I 
now  give  to  the  world.  Whether  he  is  serious  on  the  occa- 
sion, or  only  bantering,  no  one,  I  believe,  can  tell;  for, 
whether  in  speaking  or  writing,  there  is  such  an  invincibly} 
gravity  in  his  demeanor  and  style  that  even  I,  who  have 
studied  him  as  closely  as  an  antiquarian  studies  an  old  manu- 
script or  inscription,  am  frequently  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
the  rogue  would  be  at.  I  have  seen  him  indulge  in  his  favor- 
ite amusement  of  quizzing  for  hours  together,  without  any 
one  having  the  least  suspicion  of  the  matter,  until  he  would 
suddenly  twist  his  phiz  into  an  expression  that  baffles  all  de- 
scription, thrust  his  tongue  in  his  cheek  and  blow  up  in  a 
laugh  almost  as  loud  as  the  shout  of  the  Romans  on  a  cer- 
tain occasion  ;  which  honest  Plutarch  avers  frightened  sev- 
eral crows  to  such  a  degree  that  they  fell  down  stone  dead 
into  the  Campus  Martius.  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger, 
who,  like  a  true  modern  philosopher,  delights  in  experiments 
that  are  of  no  kind  of  use,  took  the  trouble  to  measure  one  of 
"Will's  risible  explosions,  and  declared  to  me  that,  according 
to  accurate  measurement,  it  contained  thirty  feet  square  of 
solid  laughter.  "What  will  the  professors  say  to  this? 


PLANS  FOR  DEFENDING  OUR  HARBOR 

BY  WILLIAM  WIZARD,   ESQ. 

Long-fong  teko  buzz  tor-pe-do, 

Fudge —  — Confucius 

We'll  blow  the  villains  all  sky  high; 

But  do  it  with  econo my.  —-Link.  Fid. 

SURELY  never  was  a  town  more  subject  to  midsummer 
fancies  and  dog-day  whim- whams  than  this  most  excellent 
of  cities;  our  notions,  like  our  diseases,  seem  all  epidemic; 
and  no  sooner  does  a  new  disorder  or  a  new  freak  seize  one 
individual  but  it  is  sure  to  run  through  all  the  community. 


190  Worlds  of  U/asI?Ii^toij  Iruli)$ 

This  Is  particularly  the  case  when  the  summer  is  at  the  hot- 
test, and  everybody's  head  is  in  a  vertigo  and  his  brain  in  a 
ferment;  'tis  absolutely  necessary  then  the  poor  souls  should 
have  some  bubble  to  amuse  themselves  with,  or  they  would 
certainly  run  mad.  Last  yaar  the  poplar  worm  made  its  ap- 
pearance most  fortunately  for  our  citizens;  and  everybody 
was  so  much  in  horror  of  being  poisoned  and  devoured,  and 
BO  busied  in  making  humane  experiments  on  cats  and  dogs, 
that  we  got  through  the  summer  quite  comfortably.  The  cats 
had  the  worst  of  it;  every  mouser  of  them  was  shaved,  and 
there  was  not  a  whisker  to  be  seen  in  the  whole  sisterhood. 
This  summer  everybody  has  had  full  employment  in  plan- 
ning fortifications  for  our  harbor.  Not  a  cobbler  or  tailor  in 
the  city  but  has  left  his  awl  and  his  thimble,  become  an  en- 
gineer outright,  and  aspired  most  magnanimously  to  the 
building  of  forts  and  destruction  of  navies i  Heavens!  aa 
my  friend  Mustapha  would  say,  on  what  a  great  scale  is 
everything  in  this  country  I 

Among  the  various  plans  that  have  been  offered,  the  most 
conspicuous  is  one  devised  and  exhibited,  as  1  am  informed, 
by  that  notable  confederacy,  "The  North  River  Sociery." 

Anxious  to  redeem  their  reputation  from  the  toul  sus- 
picions that  have  for  a  long  tune  overclouded  it,  these  aquatic 
incendiaries  have  come  forward,  at  the  present  alarming 
juncture,  and  announced  a  most  potent  discovery  which  is 
to  guarantee  our  port  from  the  visits  of  any  foreign  maraud- 
ers. The  society  have,  it  seems,  invented  a  cunning  machine, 
shrewdly  yclept  a  Torpedo,;  by  which  the  stoutest  line  of 
battleship,  even  a  "Santissima  Trinidada,"  may  be  caught 
napping  and  decomposed  in  a  twinkling;  a  kind  of  sub- 
marine powder  •  magazine  to  swim  under  water,  like  an 
aquatic  mole,  or  water-rat,  and  destroy  the  enemy  in  the 
moments  of  unsuspicious  security. 

This  straw  tickled  the  noses  of  all  our  dignitaries  wonder- 
fully; for  to  do  our  government  justice,  it  has  no  objection 
to  injuring  and  exterminating  its  enemies  in  any  manner — 
provided  the  thing  can  be  done  economically. 


191 

It  was  determined  the  experiment  should  be  tried,  and  an 
old  brig  was  purchased,  for  not  more  than  twice  its  value, 
and  delivered  over  into  the  hands  of  its  tormentors,  the  North 
River  Society,  to  be  tortured,  and  battered,  and  annihilated, 
secundum  artem.  A  day  was  appointed  for  the  occasion, 
when  all  the  good  citizens  of  the  wonder-loving  city  of  Gotham 
were  invited  to  the  blowing  up;  like  the  fat  innkeeper  in 
Rabelais,  who  requested  all  his  customers  to  come  on  a  cer- 
tain day  and  see  him  burst. 

As  I  have  almost  as  great  a  veneration  as  the  good  Mr. 
Walter  Shandy  for  all  kinds  of  experiments  that  are  ingen- 
iously ridiculous,  I  made  very  particular  mention  of  the  one 
in  question,  at  the  table  of  my  friend  Christopher  Cockloft; 
but  it  put  the  honest  old  gentleman  in  a  violent  passion.  He 
condemned  it  hi  toto,  as  an  attempt  to  introduce  a  dastardly 
and  exterminating  mode  of  warfare.  "Already  have  we 
proceeded  far  enough,"  said  he,  "in  the  science  of  destruc- 
tion; war  is  already  invested  with  sufficient  horrors  and 
calamities,  let  us  not  increase  the  catalogue ;  let  us  not  by 
these  deadly  artifices  provoke  a  system  of  insidious  and  indis- 
criminate hostility  that  shall  terminate  in  laying  OUT  cities 
desolate,  and  exposing  our  women,  our  children,  and  our 
infirm  to  the  sword  of  pitiless  recrimination."  Honest  old 
cavalier! — it  was  evident  he  did  not  reason  as  a  true  politi- 
cian— but  he  felt  as  a  Christian  and  philanthropist ;  and  that 
was,  perhaps,  just  as  well. 

It  may  be  readily  supposed  that  our  citizens  did  not  refuse 
the  invitation  of  the  society  to  the  blow-up ;  it  was  the  first 
naval  action  ever  exhibited  in  our  port,  and  the  good  people 
all  crowded  to  see  the  British  navy  blown  up  in  effigy.  The 
young  ladies  were  delighted  with  the  novelty  of  the  show, 
and  declared  that  if  war  could  be  conducted  in  this  manner 
it  would  become  a  fashionable  amusement ;  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  a  fleet  be  as  pleasant  as  a  ball  or  a  tea  party.  The 
old  folk  were  equally  pleased  with  the  spectacle— because  it 
cost  them  nothing.  Dear  souls,  how  hard  was  it  they  should 
be  disappointed!  The  brig  most  obstinately  refused  to  be 


192  U/ort^s  of 

decomposed;  the  dinners  grew  cold,  and  the  puddings  were 
overboiled,  throughout  the  renowned  city  of  Gotham ;  and  its 
sapient  inhabitants,  like  the  honest  Strasburghers,  from  whom 
most  of  them  are  doubtless  descended,  who  went  out  to  see 
the  courteous  stranger  and  his  nose,  all  returned  home  after 
having  threatened  to  pull  down  the  flagstaff  by  way  of  tak- 
ing satisfaction  for  their  disappointment.  By  the  way,  there 
is  not  an  animal  in  the  world  more  discriminating  in  its  ven- 
geance than  a  free-born  mob. 

In  the  evening  I  repaired  to  friend  Hogg's  to  smoke  a 
sociable  cigar,  but  had  scarcely  entered  the  room  when  I  was 
taken  prisoner  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Ichabod  Fungus;  who  I 
soon  saw  was  at  his  usual  trade  of  prying  into  millstones. 
The  old  gentleman  informed  me  that  the  brig  had  actually 
blown  up,  after  a  world  of  maneuvering,  and  had  nearly 
blown  up  the  society  with  it;  he  seemed  to  entertain  strong 
doubts  as  to  the  objects  of  the  society  in  the  invention  of 
these  infernal  machines;  hinted  a  suspicion  of  their  wishing 
to  set  the  river  on  fire,  and  that  he  should  not  be  surprised  on 
waking  one  of  these  mornings  to  find  the  Hudson  in  a  blaze. 
"Not  that  I  disapprove  of  the  plan,"  said  he,  "provided  it  has 
the  end  in  view  which  they  profess;  no,  no,  an  excellent  plan 
of  defense;  no  need  of  batteries,  forts,  frigates,  and  gunboats. 
Observe,  sir,  all  that's  necessary  is  that  the  ships  must  come 
to  anchor  in  a  convenient  place;  watch  must  be  asleep,  or  so 
complacent  as  not  to  disturb  any  boats  paddling  about  them 
— fair  wind  and  tide — no  moonlight — machines  well-directed 
— mustn't  flash  in  the  plan — bang's  the  word,  and  the  ves- 
sel's blown  up  in  a  moment!" — "Good,"  said  I,  "you  re- 
mind me  of  a  lubberly  Chinese  who  was  flogged  by  an  hon- 
est captain  of  my  acquaintance,  and  who,  on  being  advised 
to  retaliate,  exclaimed — 'Hi  yah!  s'pose  two  men  hold  fast 
him  captain,  den  very  mush  me  bamboo  he!' ' 

The  old  gentleman  grew  a  little  crusty,  and  insisted  that 
I  did  not  understand  him;  all  that  was  requisite  to  render 
the  effect  certain  was  that  the  enemy  should  enter  into  the 
project ;  or,  in  other  words,  be  agreeable  to  the  measure ;  so 


193 

that  if  the  machine  did  not  come  to  the  ship,  the  ship  should 
go  to  the  machine ;  by  which  means  he  thought  the  success 
of  the  machine  would  be  inevitable— provided  it  struck  fire. 
"But  do  not  you  think,"  said  I,  doubtingly,  "that  it  would 
be  rather  difficult  to  persuade  the  enemy  into  such  an  agree- 
ment? Some  people  have  an  invincible  antipathy  to  being 
blown  up." — "Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  replied  he,  triumph- 
antly; "got  an  excellent  notion  for  that;  do  with  them  as 
we  have  done  with  the  brig;  buy  all  the  vessels  we  mean  to 
destroy  and  blow  'em  up  as  best  suits  our  convenience.  I 
have  thought  deeply  on  that  subject  and  have  calculated  to 
a  certainty  that  if  our  funds  hold  out  we  may  hi  this  way 
destroy  the  whole  British  navy — by  contract." 

By  this  time  all  the  quidnuncs  of  the  room  had  gathered 
around  us,  each  pregnant  with  some  mighty  scheme  for  the 
salvation  of  his  country.  One  pathetically  lamented  that  we 
had  110  such  men  among  us  as  the  famous  Toujoursdort  and 
Grossitout;  who,  when  the  celebrated  Captain  Tranchemont 
made  war  against  the  city  of  Kalacahabalaba,  utterly  dis- 
comfited the  great  king  Bigstaff,  and  blew  up  his  whole  army 
by  sneezing.  Another  imparted  a  sage  idea,  which  seems  to 
have  occupied  more  heads  than  one;  that  is,  that  the  best 
way  of  fortifying  the  harbor  was  to  ruin  it  at  once :  choke 
the  channel  with  rocks  and  blocks;  strew  it  with  chevaux- 
de-frise  and  torpedoes :  and  make  it  like  a  nursery-garden, 
full  of  men-traps  and  spring-guns.  No  vessel  would  then 
have  the  temerity  to  enter  our  harbor;  we  should  not  even 
dare  to  navigate  it  ourselves.  Or,  if  no  cheaper  way  could 
be  devised,  let  Governor's  Island  be  raised  by  levers  and  pul- 
leys, floated  with  empty  casks,  etc.,  towed  down  to  the  Nar- 
rows, and  dropped  plump  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  harbor ! — 
"But,"  said  I,  "would  not  the  prosecution  of  these  whim- 
whams  be  rather  expensive  and  dilatory?" — "Pshaw!"  cried 
the  other,  "what's  a  million  of  money  to  an  experiment;  the 
true  spirit  of  our  economy  requires  that  we  should  spare  no 
expense  in  discovering  the  cheapest  mode  of  defending  our- 
selves; and  then  if  all  these  modes  should  fail,  why  you  know 

*  *  *  I  VOL.  V. 


194  U/orks  of  U7asl?ii7$toi> 

the  worst  we  have  to  do  is  to  return  to  the  old-fashioned  hum- 
drum mode  of  forts  and  batteries." — "By  which  time,"  cried 
I,  "the  arrival  of  the  enemy  may  have  rendered  their  erec- 
tion superfluous." 

A  shrewd  old  gentleman,  who  stood  listening  by,  with  a 
mischievously  equivocal  look,  observed  that  the  most  effect- 
ual mode  of  repulsing  a  fleet  from  our  ports  would  be  to 
administer  them  a  proclamation  from  time  to  time  till  it 
operated. 

Unwilling  to  leave  the  company  without  demonstrating 
my  .patriotism  and  ingenuity,  I  communicated  a  plan  of  de- 
fense; which,  in  truth,  was  suggested  long  since  by  that 
infallible  oracle  Mustapha,  who  had  as  clear  a  head  for  cob- 
web-weaving as  ever  dignified  the  shoulders  of  a  projector. 
He  thought  the  most  effectual  mode  would  be  to  assemble 
all  the  slang-whangers,  great  and  small,  from  all  parts  of 
the  State,  and  marshal  them  at  the  Battery;  where  they 
should  be  exposed,  pointblank,  to  the  enemy,  and  form  a 
tremendous  body  of  scolding  infantry;  similar  to  the  pois- 
sards  or  doughty  champions  of  Billingsgate.  They  should 
be  exhorted  to  fire  away,  without  pity  or  remorse,  in  sheets, 
half  sheets,  columns,  handbills,  or  squibs;  great  canon,  little 
canon,  pica,  German-text,  stereotype,  and  to  run  their  ene- 
mies through  and  through  with  sharp-pointed  italics.  They 
should  have  orders  to  show  no  quarter — to  blaze  away  in 
their  loudest  epithets — "miscreants!"  "murderers!"  "bar- 
barians!" "pirates!"  "robbers!"  "BLACKGUARDS!"  and  to 
do  away  all  fear  of  consequences,  they  should  be  guaranteed 
from  all  dangers  of  pillory,  kicking,  cuffing,  nose-pulling, 
whipping-post,  or  prosecution  for  libels.  If,  continued  Mus- 
tapha, you  wish  men  to  fight  well  and  valiantly,  they  must 
be  allowed  those  weapons  they  have  been  used  to  handle. 
Your  countrymen  are  notoriously  adroit  in  the  management 
of  the  tongue  and  the  pen,  and  conduct  all  their  battles  by 
speeches  or  newspapers.  Adopt,  therefore,  the  plan  I  have 
pointed  out;  and  rely  upon  it  that  let  any  fleet,  however 
large,  be  but  once  assailed  by  this  battery  of  slang-whangers, 


Salma$updi  195 

and  if  they  have  not  entirely  lost  the  sense  of  hearing,  or  a 
regard  for  their  own  characters  and  feelings,  they  will,  at 
the  very  first  fire,  slip  their  cables  and  retreat  with  as  much 
precipitation  as  if  they  had  unwarily  entered  into  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  Bohan  upas.  In  this  manner  may  your  wars 
be  conducted  with  proper  economy ;  and  it  will  cost  no  more 
to  drive  off  a  fleet  than  to  write  up  a  party,  or  write  down  a 
bashaw  with  three  tails. 

The  sly  old  gentleman  I  have  before  mentioned  was 
highly  delighted  with  this  plan;  and  proposed,  as  an  im- 
provement, that  mortars  should  be  placed  on  the  Battery, 
which,  instead  of  throwing  shells  and  such  trifles,  might  be 
charged  with  newspapers,  Tammany  addresses,  etc.,  by  way 
of  red-hot  shot,  which  would  undoubtedly  be  very  potent  in 
blowing  up  any  powder-magazine  they  might  chance  to  come 
in  contact  with.  He  concluded  by  informing  the  company 
that  in  the  course  of  a  few  evenings  he  would  have  the  honor 
to  present  them  with  a  scheme  for  loading  certain  vessels 
with  newspapers,  resolutions  of  "numerous  and  respectable 
meetings,"  and  other  combustibles,  which  vessels  were  to  be 
blown  directly  hi  the  midst  of  the  enemy  by  the  bellows  of 
the  slang- whangers ;  and  he  was  much  mistaken  if  they 
would  not  be  more  fatal  than  fire-ships,  bom-ketches,  gun- 
boats, or  even  torpedoes. 

These  are  but  two  or  three  specimens  of  the  nature  and 
efficacy  of  the  innumerable  plans  with  which  this  city 
abounds.  Everybody  seems  charged  to  the  muzzle  with 
gunpowder — every  eye  flashes  fireworks  and  torpedoes,  and 
every  corner  is  occupied  by  knots  of  inflammatory  projectors; 
not  one  of  whom  but  has  some  preposterous  mode  of  destruc- 
tion which  he  has  proved  to  be  infallible  by  a  previous  ex- 
periment in  a  tub  of  water ! 

Even  Jeremy  Cockloft  has  caught  the  infection,  to  the 
great  annoyance  of  the  inhabitants  of  Cockloft  Hall,  whither 
he  retired  to  make  his  experiments  undisturbed.  At  one 
time  all  the  mirrors  in  the  house  were  unhung — their  col- 
lected rays  throwix  into  the  hothouse,  to  try  Archimedes' 


196  U/orks  of  U/asl>ii?<$toi) 

plan  of  burning-glasses ;  and  the  honest  old  gardener  was 
almost  knocked  down  by  what  he  mistook  for  a  stroke  of 
the  sun,  but  which  turned  out  to  be  nothing  more  than  a 
sudden  attack  of  one  of  these  tremendous  jack-o'-lanterns. 
It  became  dangerous  to  walk  through  the  courtyard  for  fear 
of  an  explosion ;  and  the  whole  family  was  thrown  into  abso- 
lute distress  and  consternation  by  a  letter  from  the  old  house- 
keeper to  Mrs.  Cockloft,  informing  her  of  his  having  blown 
up  a  favorite  Chinese  gander  which  I  had  brought  from  Can- 
ton, as  he  was  majestically  sailing  in  the  duck-pond. 

"In  the  multitude  of  counselors  there  is  safety;"  if  so, 
the  defenseless  city  of  Gotham  has  nothing  to  apprehend. 
But  much  do  I  fear  that  so  many  excellent  and  infallible 
projects  will  be  presented  that  we  shall  be  at  a  loss  which 
to  adopt;  and  the  peaceable  inhabitants  fare  like  a  famous 
projector  of  my  acquaintance,  whose  house  was  unfortunately 
plundered  while  he  was  contriving  a  patent  lock  to  secure 
his  door. 

FROM   MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 


A   RETROSPECT;    OR,    "WHAT    YOU    WILL" 

LOLLING  in  my  elbow-chair  this  fine  summer  noon,  I  feel 
myself  insensibly  yielding  to  that  genial  feeling  of  indolence 
the  season  is  so  well  fitted  to  inspire.  Every  one  who  ia 
blessed  with  a  little  of  the  delicious  languor  of  disposition 
that  delights  in  repose,  must  often  have  sported  among  the 
fairy  scenes,  the  golden  visions,  the  voluptuous  reveries,  that 
swim  before  the  imagination  at  such  moments,  and  which 
so  much  resemble  those  blissful  sensations  a  Mussulman  en- 
joys after  his  favorite  indulgence  of  opium,  which  Will  "Wiz- 
ard declares  can  be  compared  to  nothing  but  "swimming  in 
an  ocean  of  peacocks'  feathers."  In  such  a  mood,  everybody 
must  be  sensible  it  would  be  idle  and  unprofitable  for  a  man 
to  send  his  wits  a-gadding  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  into 
futurity ;  or  even  to  trouble  himself  with  a  laborious  investi- 


197 

gation  of  what  is  actually  passing  under  his  eye.  "We  are  at 
such  times  more  disposed  to  resort  to  the  pleasures  of  memory 
than  to  those  of  the  imagination ;  and,  like  the  wayfaring 
traveler,  reclining  for  a  moment  on  his  staff,  had  rather  con- 
template the  ground  we  have  traveled  than  the  region  which 
is  yet  before  us. 

I  could  here  amuse  myself  and  stultify  my  readers  with  a 
most  elaborate  and  ingenious  parallel  between  authors  and 
travelers ;  but  in  this  balmy  season  which  makes  men  stupid 
and  dogs  mad,  and  when  doubtless  many  of  our  most  strenu- 
ous admirers  have  great  difficulty  in  keeping  awake  through 
the  day,  it  would  be  cruel  to  saddle  them  with  the  formid- 
able difficulty  of  putting  two  ideas  together  and  drawing  a 
conclusion ;  or,  hi  the  learned  phrase,  forging  syllogisms  in 
Baroco — a  terrible  undertaking  for  the  dog  days !  To  say  the 
truth,  my  observations  were  only  intended  to  prove  that  this, 
of  all  others,  is  the  most  auspicious  moment,  and  my  present 
the  most  favorable  mood,  for  indulging  in  a  retrospect. 
Whether,  like  certain  great  personages  of  the  day,  in  at- 
tempting to  prove  one  thing,  I  have  exposed  another;  or 
whether,  like  certain  other  great  personages,  in  attempting 
to  prove  a  great  deal,  I  have  proved  nothing  at  all,  I  leave 
to  my  readers  to  decide ;  provided  they  have  the  power  and 
inclination  so  to  do;  but  a  retrospect  will  I  take  notwith- 
standing. 

I  am  perfectly  aware  that  in  doing  this  I  shall  lay  myself 
open  to  the  charge  of  imitation,  than  which  a  man  might  be 
better  accused  of  downright  house-breaking;  for  it  has  been 
a  standing  rule  with  many  of  my  illustrious  predecessors, 
occasionally,  and  particularly  at  the  conclusion  of  a  volume, 
to  look  over  their  shoulder  and  chuckle  at  the  miracles  they 
had  achieved.  But,  as  I  before  professed,  I  am  determined 
to  hold  myself  entirely  independent  of  all  manner  of  opinions 
and  criticisms  as  the  only  method  of  getting  on  in  this  world 
in  anything  like  a  straight  line.  True  it  is,  I  may  sometimes 
seem  to  angle  a  little  for  the  good  opinion  of  mankind  by 
giving  them  some  excellent  reasons  for  doing  unreasonable 


198  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii7$toi> 

things;  but  this  is  merely  to  show  them  that,  although  I 
may  occasionally  go  wrong,  it  is  not  for  want  of  knowing 
how  to  go  right;  and  here  I  will  lay  down  a  maxim,  which 
will  forever  entitle  me  to  the  gratitude  of  my  inexperienced 
readers;  namely,  that  a  man  always  gets  more  credit  in  the 
eyes  of  this  naughty  world  for  sinning  willfully  than  for  sin- 
ning through  sheer  ignorance. 

It  will  doubtless  be  insisted  by  many  ingenious  cavilers, 
who  will  be  meddling  with  what  does  not  at  all  concern  them, 
that  this  retrospect  should  have  been  taken  at  the  commence- 
ment of  our  second  volume ;  it  is  usual,  I  know :  moreover, 
it  is  natural.  So  soon  as  a  writer  has  once  accomplished  a 
volume,  he  forthwith  becomes  wonderfully  increased  in  alti- 
tude !  He  steps  upon  his  book  as  upon  a  pedestal,  and  is  ele- 
vated in  proportion  to  its  magnitude.  A  duodecimo  makes 
him  one  inch  taller;  an  octavo,  three  inches;  a  quarto,  six. 
But  he  who  has  made  out  to  swell  a  folio,  looks  down  upon 
his  fellow-creatures  from  such  a  fearful  height  that,  ten  to 
one,  the  poor  man's  head  is  turned  forever  afterward.  From 
such  a  lofty  situation,  therefore,  it  is  natural  an  author  should 
cast  his  eyes  behind ;  and,  having  reached  the  first  landing 
place  on  the  stairs  of  immortality,  may  reasonably  be  allowed 
to  plead  his  privilege  to  look  back  over  the  height  he  has 
ascended.  I  have  deviated  a  little  from  this  venerable  cus- 
tom, merely  that  our  retrospect  might  fall  in  the  dog  days — 
of  all  days  in  the  year  most  congenial  to  the  indulgence  of  a 
little  self-sufficiency ;  inasmuch  as  people  have  then  little  to 
do  but  to  retire  within  the  sphere  of  self  and  make  the  most 
of  what  they  find  there. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  we  think  ourselves 
a  whit  the  wiser  or  better  since  we  have  finished  our  volume 
than  we  were  before;  on  the  contrary,  we  seriously  assure 
our  readers  that  we  were  fully  possessed  of  all  the  wisdom 
and  morality  it  contains  at  the  moment  we  commenced  writ- 
ing. It  is  the  world  which  has  grown  wiser — not  us ;  we 
have  thrown  our  mite  into  the  common  stock  of  knowledge, 
we  have  shared  our  morsel  with  the  ignorant  multitude ;  and 


Sal/na<$ui)dl  199 

so  far  from  elevating  ourselves  above  the  world,  our  sole 
endeavor  has  been  to  raise  the  world  to  our  own  level, 
and  make  it  as  wise  as  we,  its  disinterested  benefactors. 

To  a  moral  writer  like  myself,  who,  next  to  his  own  com- 
fort and  entertainment,  has  the  good  of  his  fellow-citizens  at 
heart,  a  retrospect  is  but  a  sorry  amusement.  Like  the  in- 
dustrious husbandman,  he  often  contemplates  in  silent  disap- 
pointment his  labors  wasted  on  a  barren  soil,  or  the  seed  he 
has  carefully  sown  choked  by  a  redundancy  of  worthies* 
weeds.  I  expected  long  ere  this  to  have  seen  a  complete 
reformation  in  manners  and  morals  achieved  by  our  united 
efforts.  My  fancy  echoed  to  the  applauding  voices  of  a  re- 
trieved generation;  I  anticipated,  with  proud  satisfaction, 
the  period,  not  far  distant,  when  our  work  would  be  intro- 
duced into  the  academies  with  which  every  lane  and  alley  of 
our  cities  abounds ;  when  our  precepts  would  be  gently  in- 
ducted into  every  unlucky  urchin  by  force  of  birch,  and  my 
iron-bound  physiognomy,  as  taken  by  Will  Wizard,  be  as 
notorious  as  that  of  Noah  Webster,  Junr.,  Esq.,  or  his  no 
less  renowned  predecessor,  the  illustrious  Dilworth,  of  spell- 
ing-book immortality.  But,  well-a-day!  to  let  my  readers 
into  a  profound  secret — the  expectations  of  man  are  like  the 
varied  hues  that  tinge  the  distant  prospect ;  never  to  be  real- 
ized, never  to  be  enjoyed  but  in  perspective.  Luckless 
Launcelot,  that  the  humblest  of  the  many  air  castles  thou 
hast  erected  should  prove  a  "baseless  fabric!"  Much  does 
it  grieve  me  to  confess  that,  after  all  our  lectures,  precepts, 
and  excellent  admonitions,  the  people  of  New  York  are  nearly 
as  much  given  to  backsliding  and  ill- nature  as  ever ;  they  are 
just  as  much  abandoned  to  dancing  and  tea-drinking;  and  as 
to  scandal,  Will  Wizard  informs  me  that,  by  a  rough  compu- 
tation, since  the  last  cargo  of  gunpowder-tea  from  Canton, 
no  less  than  eighteen  characters  have  been  blown  up,  besides 
a  number  of  others  that  have  been  wofully  shattered. 

The  ladies  still  labor  under  the  same  scarcity  of  muslins, 
and  delight  in  flesh-colored  silk  stockings ;  it  is  evident,  how- 
ever, that  our  advice  has  had  very  considerable  effect  on 


200  U/orl^s  of 

them,  as  they  endeavor  to  act  as  opposite  to  it  as  possible ; 
this  being  what  Evergreen  calls  female  independence.  As 
to  the  Straddles,  they  abound  as  much  as  ever  in  Broadway, 
particularly  on  Sundays;  and  Wizard  roundly  asserts  that 
he  supped  in  company  with  a  knot  of  them  a  few  evenings 
since,  when  they  liquidated  a  whole  Birmingham  consign- 
ment, in  a  batch  of  imperial  champagne.  I  have,  further- 
more, in  the  course  of  a  month  past,  detected  no  less  than 
three  Giblet  families  making  their  first  onset  toward  style 
and  gentility  in  the  very  manner  we  have  heretofore  repro- 
bated. Nor  have  our  utmost  efforts  been  able  to  check  the 
progress  of  that  alarming  epidemic,  the  rage  for  punning, 
which,  though  doubtless  originally  intended  merely  to  orna- 
ment and  enliven  conversation  by  little  sports  of  fancy, 
threatens  to  overrun  and  poison  the  whole,  like  the  baneful 
ivy  which  destroys  the  useful  plant  it  first  embellished.  Now 
I  look  upon  a  habitual  punster  as  a  depredator  upon  con- 
versation ;  and  I  have  remarked  sometimes  one  of  these  of- 
fenders, sitting  silent  on  the  watch  for  an  hour  together,  un- 
til some  luckless  wight,  unfortunately  for  the  ease  and  quiet 
of  the  company,  dropped  a  phrase  susceptible  of  a  double 
meaning;  when — pop,  our  punster  would  dart  out  like  a  vet- 
eran mouser  from  her  covert,  seize  the  unlucky  word,  and 
after  worrying  and  mumbling  at  it  until  it  was  capable  of  no 
further  marring,  relapse  again  into  silent  watchfulness,  and 
lie  in  wait  for  another  opportunity.  Even  this  might  be 
borne  with  by  the  aid  of  a  little  philosophy;  but  the  worst 
of  it  is  they  are  not  content  to  manufacture  puns  and  laugh 
heartily  at  them  themselves;  but  they  expect  we  should  laugh 
with  them ;  which  I  consider  as  an  intolerable  hardship,  and 
a  flagrant  imposition  on  good  nature.  Let  those  gentlemen 
fritter  away  conversation  with  impunity,  and  deal  out  their 
wits  in  sixpenny  bits  if  they  please;  but  I  beg  I  may  have 
the  choice  of  refusing  currency  to  their  small  change.  I  am 
seriously  afraid,  however,  that  our  junto  is  not  quite  free 
from  the  infection ;  nay,  that  it  has  even  approached  so  near 
as  to  menace  the  tranquillity  of  my  elbow-chair:  for  Will 


Salma$ui)di 

Wizard,  as  we  were  in  caucus  the  other  night,  absolutely 
electrified  Pindar  and  myself  with  a  most  palpable  and  per- 
plexing pun;  had  it  been  a  torpedo,  it  could  not  have  more 
discomposed  the  fraternity.  Sentence  of  banishment  was 
unanimously  decreed ;  but  on  his  confessing  that,  like  many 
celebrated  wits,  he  was  merely  retailing  other  men's  wares 
on  commission,  he  was  for  that  once  forgiven  on  condition 
of  refraining  from  such  diabolical  practices  in  future.  Pin- 
dar is  particularly  outrageous  against  punsters;  and  quite 
astonished  and  put  me  to  a  nonplus  a  day  or  two  since  by 
asking  abruptly  "whether  I  thought  a  punster  could  be  a 
good  Christian?"  He  followed  up  his  question  triumph- 
antly by  offering  to  prove,  by  sound  logic  and  historical 
fact,  that  the  Roman  empire  owed  its  decline  and  fall  to  a 
pun ;  and  that  nothing  tended  so  much  to  demoralize  the 
French  nation  as  their  abominable  rage  for  jeux  de  mots. 

But  what,  above  everything  else,  has  caused  me  much 
vexation  of  spirit,  and  displeased  me  most  with  this  stiff- 
necked  nation,  is  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  serious  and  profound 
censures  of  the  sage  Mustapha  in  his  various  letters — they 
will  talk! — they  will  still  wag  their  tongues  and  chatter  like 
very  slang- whangers !  This  is  a  degree  of  obstinacy  incom- 
prehensible in  the  extreme ;  and  is  another  proof  how  alarm- 
ing is  the  force  of  habit,  and  how  difficult  it  is  to  reduce 
beings,  accustomed  to  talk,  to  that  state  of  silence  which  is 
the  very  acme  of  human  wisdom. 

We  can  only  account  for  these  disappointments  in  our 
moderate  and  reasonable  expectations  by  supposing  the  world 
so  deeply  sunk  in  the  mire  of  delinquency  that  not  even 
Hercules,  were  he  to  put  his  shoulder  to  the  axletree,  would 
be  able  to  extricate  it.  We  comfort  ourselves,  however,  by 
the  reflection  that  there  are  at  least  three  good  men  left  in 
this  degenerate  age  to  benefit  the  world  by  example  should 
precept  ultimately  fail.  And  borrowing,  for  once,  an  ex- 
ample from  certain  sleepy  writers  who,  after  the  first  emo- 
tions of  surprise  at  finding  their  invaluable  effusions  neglected 
or  despised,  console  themselves  with  the  idea  that  'tis  a  stupid 


of 

age,  and  look  forward  to  posterity  for  redress.  "We  bequeath 
our  first  volume  to  future  generations — and  much  good  may 
it  do  them.  Heaven  grant  they  may  be  able  to  read  it!  for, 
if  our  fashionable  mode  of  education  continues  to  improve, 
as  of  late,  I  am  under  serious  apprehensions  that  the  period 
is  not  far  distant  when  the  discipline  of  the  dancing  master 
will  supersede  that  of  the  grammarian;  crotchets  and 
quavers  supplant  the  alphabet;  and  the  heels,  by  an  anti- 
podean maneuver,  obtain  entire  pre-eminence  over  the  head. 
How  does  my  heart  yearn  for  poor  dear  posterity,  when  this 
work  shall  become  as  unintelligible  to  our  grandchildren  as 
it  seems  to  be  to  their  grandfathers  and  grandmothers. 

In  fact,  for  I  love  to  be  candid,  we  begin  to  suspect  that 
many  people  read  our  numbers  merely  for  their  amusement, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  the  serious  truths  conveyed 
in  every  page.  Unpardonable  want  of  penetration !  Not  that 
we  wish  to  restrict  our  readers  in  the  article  of  laughing, 
which  we  consider  as  one  of  the  dearest  prerogatives  of  man, 
and  the  distinguishing  characteristic  which  raises  him  above 
all  other  animals;  let  them  laugh,  therefore,  if  they  will, 
provided  they  profit  at  the  same  time  and  do  not  mistake  our 
object.  It  is  one  of  our  indisputable  facts  that  it  is  easier  to 
laugh  ten  follies  out  of  countenance  than  to  coax,  reason  or 
flog  a  man  out  of  one.  In  this  odd,  singular,  and  inde- 
scribable age,  which  is  neither  the  age  of  gold,  silver,  iron, 
brass,  chivalry,  nor  pills,  as  Sir  John  Carr  asserts,  a  grave 
writer  who  attempts  to  attack  folly  with  the  heavy  artillery 
of  moral  reasoning  will  fare  like  Smollett's  honest  pedant, 
who  clearly  demonstrated  by  angles,  etc.,  after  the  manner 
of  Euclid,  that  it  was  wrong  to  do  evil  5  and  was  laughed  at 
for  his  pains.  Take  my  word  for  it,  a  little  well-applied 
ridicule,  like  Hannibal's  application  of  vinegar  to  rocks,  will 
do  more  with  certain  hard  heads  and  obdurate  hearts  than 
all  the  logic  or  demonstrations  in  Longinus  or  Euclid.  But 
the  people  of  Gotham,  wise  souls !  are  so  much  accustomed 
to  see  morality  approach  them  clothed  in  formidable  wigs 
and  sable  garbs,  "with  leaden  eye  that  loves  the  ground," 


8alma$ui?df  203 

that  they  can  never  recognize  her  when,  dressed  in  gay  attire, 
she  comes  tripping  toward  them  with  smiles  and  sunshine  in 
her  countenance.  Well,  let  the  rogues  remain  in  happy  ig- 
norance, for  "ignorance  is  bliss,"  as  the  poet  says;  and  I 
put  as  implicit  faith  in  poetry  as  I  do  in  the  almanac  or  the 
newspaper.  We  will  improve  them,  without  their  being  the 
wiser  for  it,  and  they  shall  become  better  in  spite  of  their 
teeth,  and  without  their  having  the  least  suspicion  of  the 
reformation  working  within  them. 

Among  all  our  manifold  grievances,  however,  still  some 
small  but  vivid  rays  of  sunshine  occasionally  brighten  along 
our  path ;  cheering  our  steps,  and  inviting  us  to  persevere. 

The  public  have  paid  some  little  regard  to  a  few  articles 
of  our  advice.  They  have  purchased  our  numbers  freely — so 
much  the  better  for  our  publisher.  They  have  read  them 
attentively — so  much  the  better  for  themselves.  The  melan- 
choly fate  of  my  dear  aunt  Charity  has  had  a  wonderful 
effect ;  and  I  have  now  before  me  a  letter  from  a  gentleman 
who  lives  opposite  to  a  couple  of  old  ladies  remarkable  for 
the  interest  they  took  in  his  affairs.  His  apartments  were 
absolutely  in  a  state  of  blockade,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of 
changing  his  lodgings,  or  capitulating,  until  the  appearance 
of  our  ninth  number,  which  he  immediately  sent  over  with 
his  compliments.  The  good  ladies  took  the  hint,  and  have 
scarcely  appeared  at  their  window  since.  As  to  the  wooden 
gentlemen,  our  friend  Miss  Sparkle  assures  me  they  are 
wonderfully  improved  by  our  criticisms,  and  sometimes  ven- 
ture to  make  a  remark  or  attempt  a  pun  in  company,  to  the 
great  edification  of  all  who  happen  to  understand  them.  As 
to  red  shawls,  they  are  entirely  discarded  from  the  fair 
shoulders  of  our  ladies — ever  since  the  last  importation  of 
finery.  Nor  has  any  lady,  since  the  cold  weather,  ventured 
to  expose  her  elbows  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  scrutinizing 
passengers.  But  there  is  one  victory  we  have  achieved 
which  has  given  us  more  pleasure  than  to  have  written  down 
the  whole  administration :  I  am  assured,  from  unquestionable 
uuthority,  that  our  young  ladies,  doubtless  in  consequence  of 


204  Q/orl^s  of  U/as^ip^top 

our  weighty  admonitions,  have  not  once  indulged  in  that  in- 
toxicating, inflammatory,  and  whirligig  dance,  the  waltz — 
ever  since  hot  weather  commenced.  True  it  is,  I  under- 
stand an  attempt  was  made  to  exhibit  it  by  some  of  the  sable 
fair  ones  at  the  last  African  ball,  but  it  was  highly  disap- 
proved of  by  all  the  respectable  elderly  ladies  present. 

These  are  sweet  sources  of  comfort  to  atone  for  the  many 
wrongs  and  misrepresentations  heaped  upon  us  by  the  world; 
for  even  we  have  experienced  its  ill-nature.  How  often  have 
we  heard  ourselves  reproached  for  the  insidious  applications 
of  the  uncharitable?  How  often  have  we  been  accused  of 
emotions  which  never  found  an  entrance  into  our  bosoms? 
How  often  have  our  sportive  effusions  been  wrested  to  serve 
the  purposes  of  particular  enmity  and  bitterness? — Meddle- 
some spirits!  little  do  they  know  our  disposition ;  we  "lack 
gall"  to  wound  the  feelings  of  a  single  innocent  individual; 
we  can  even  forgive  them  from  the  very  bottom  of  our  souls! 
may  they  meet  as  ready  a  forgiveness  from  their  own  con- 
sciences !  Like  true  and  independent  bachelors,  having  no 
domestic  cares  to  interfere  with  our  general  benevolence,  we 
consider  it  incumbent  upon  us  to  watch  over  the  welfare  of 
society ;  and  although  we  are  indebted  to  the  world  for  little 
else  than  left-handed  favors,  yet  we  feel  a  proud  satisfaction 
in  requiting  evil  with  good,  and  the  sneer  of  illiberality  with 
the  unfeigned  smile  of  good  humor.  With  these  mingled 
motives  of  selfishness  and  philanthropy  we  commenced  our 
work,  and  if  we  cannot  solace  ourselves  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  done  much  good,  yet  there  is  still  one  pleasing 
consolation  left,  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take 
away.  There  are  moments — lingering  moments  of  listless 
indifference  and  heavy-hearted  despondency — when  our  best 
hopes  and  affections  slipping,  as  they  sometimes  will,  from 
their  hold  on  those  objects  to  which  they  usually  cling  for 
support,  seem  abandoned  on  the  wide  waste  of  cheerless 
existence,  without  a  place  to  cast  anchor;  without  a  shore  in 
view  to  excite  a  single  wish,  or  to  give  a  momentary  interest 
to  contemplation.  We  look  back  with  delight  upon  many  of 


205 

these  moments  of  mental  gloom,  whiled  away  by  the  cheerful 
exercise  of  our  pen,  and  consider  every  such  triumph  over 
the  spleen  as  retarding  the  furrowing  hand  of  time  in  its  in- 
sidious encroachments  on  our  brows.  If,  in  addition  to  our 
own  amusements,  we  have,  as  we  jogged  carelessly  laughing 
along,  brushed  away  one  tear  of  dejection  and  called  forth 
a  smile  in  its  place — if  we  have  brightened  the  pale  counte- 
nance of  a  single  child  of  sorrow — we  shall  feel  almost  as 
much  joy  and  rejoicing  as  a  slang-whanger  does  when  he 
bathes  his  pen  in  the  heart's  blood  of  a  patron  and  benefactor; 
or  sacrifices  one  more  illustrious  victim  on  the  altar  of  party 
animosity. 


TO  READERS   AND  CORRESPONDENTS 

IT  is  our  misfortune  to  be  frequently  pestered,  in  our 
peregrinations  about  this  blessed  city,  by  certain  critical 
gad-flies,  who  buzz  around  and  merely  attack  the  skin,  with- 
out ever  being  able  to  penetrate  the  body.  The  reputation 
of  our  promising  protege,  Jeremy  Cockloft  the  younger,  has 
been  assailed  by  these  skin-deep  critics;  they  have  questioned 
his  claims  to  originality,  and  even  hinted  that  the  ideas  for 
his  New  Jersey  tour  were  borrowed  from  a  late  work  entitled 
"My  Pocket-Book."  As  there  is  no  literary  offense  more 
despicable  in  the  eyes  of  the  trio  than  borrowing,  we  imme- 
diately called  Jeremy  to  an  account:  when  he  proved,  by 
the  dedication  of  the  work  in  question,  that  it  was  first  pub- 
lished in  London  in  March,  180? — and  that  his  "Stranger  in 
New  Jersey"  had  made  its  appearance  on  the  24th  of  the 
preceding  February. 

We  were  on  the  point  of  acquitting  Jeremy  with  honor 
on  the  ground  that  it  was  impossible,  knowing  as  he  is,  to 
borrow  from  a  foreign  work  one  month  before  it  was  in  exist- 
ence; when  Will  Wizard  suddenly  took  up  the  cudgels  for 
ihe  critics,  and  insisted  that  nothing  was  more  probable;  for 
he  recollected  reading  of  an  ingenious  Dutch  author  who 


206  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?io$toi>  Irvfi?$ 

plainly  convicted  the  ancients  of  stealing  from  Ms  laborst 
— So  much  for  criticism. 


WE  have  received  a  host  of  friendly  and  admonitory 
letters  from  different  quarters,  and  among  the  rest  a  very 
loving  epistle  from  Georgetown,  Columbia,  signed  Teddy 
M' Gundy,  who  addresses  us  by  the  name  of  Saul  M' Gundy, 
and  insists  that  we  are  descended  from  the  same  Irish  pro- 
genitors, and  nearly  related.  As  friend  Teddy  seems  to  be 
an  honest,  merry  rogue,  we  are  sorry  that  we  cannot  admit 
his  claims  to  kindred ;  we  thank  him,  however,  for  his  good- 
will, and  should  he  ever  be  inclined  to  favor  us  with  another 
epistle,  we  will  hint  to  him,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  our 
other  numerous  correspondents,  that  their  communications 
will  be  infinitely  more  acceptable  if  they  will  just  recollect 
Tom  Shuffleton's  advice,  "pay  the  post-boy,  Muggins.'* 


No.  XIV.— SATURDAY,  SEPTEMBER  19,  1807 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB   KELI 

KHAN, 

TO    ASEM   HACCHEM,    PRINCIPAL  SLAVE-DRIVER  TO    HIS 
HIGHNESS    THE    BASHAW    OF    TRIPOLI 

HEALTH  and  joy  to  the  friend  of  my  heart! — May  the 
angel  of  peace  ever  watch  over  thy  dwelling,  and  the  star  of 
prosperity  shed  its  benignant  luster  on  all  thy  undertakings. 
Far  other  is  the  lot  of  thy  captive  friend.  His  brightest 
hopes  extend  but  to  a  lengthened  period  of  weary  captivity, 
and  memory  only  adds  to  the  measure  of  his  griefs  by  hold- 
ing up  a  mirror  which  reflects  with  redoubled  charms  the 
hours  of  past  felicity.  In  midnight  slumbers  my  soul  holds 
sweet  converse  with  the  tender  objects  of  its  affections.  It 
is  then  the  exile  is  restored  to  his  country-  It  is  then  the 


Salma$ui?di  20? 

wide  waste  of  waters  that  rolls  between  us  disappears,  and  I 
clasp  to  my  bosom  the  companion  of  my  youth ;  I  awake  and 
find  it  is  but  a  vision  of  the  night.  The  sigh  will  rise — the 
tear  of  dejection  will  steal  down  my  cheek.  I  fly  to  my  pen, 
and  strive  to  forget  myself  and  my  sorrows  in  conversing 
with  my  friend.  In  such  a  situation,  my  good  Asem,  it 
cannot  be  expected  that  I  should  be  able  so  wholly  to  abstract 
myself  from  my  own  feelings  as  to  give  thee  a  full  and  sys- 
tematic account  of  the  singular  people  among  whom  my 
disastrous  lot  has  been  cast.  I  can  only  find  leisure,  from 
my  own  individual  sorrows,  to  entertain  thee  occasionally 
with  some  of  the  most  prominent  features  of  their  character, 
and  now  and  then  a  solitary  picture  of  their  most  preposterous 
eccentricities. 

I  have  before  observed  that  among  the  distinguishing 
characteristics  of  the  people  of  this  logocracy  is  their  invin- 
cible love  of  talking,  and  that  I  could  compare  the  nation 
to  nothing  but  a  mighty  windmill.  Thou  art  doubtless  at  a 
loss  to  conceive  how  this  mill  is  supplied  with  grist;  or,  in 
other  words,  how  it  is  possible  to  furnish  subjects  to  supply 
the  perpetual  motion  of  so  many  tongues. 

The  genius  of  the  nation  appears  in  its  highest  luster  in 
this  particular  in  the  discovery,  or  rather  the  application,  of 
&  subject  which  seems  to  supply  an  inexhaustible  mine  of 
words.  It  is  nothing  more,  my  friend,  than  "politics";  a 
word  which,  I  declare  to  thee,  has  perplexed  me  almost  as 
much  as  the  redoubtable  one  of  economy.  On  consulting  a 
dictionary  of  this  language,  I  found  it  denoted  the  science  of 
government;  and  the  relations,  situations,  and  dispositions 
of  states  and  empires.  Good,  thought  I;  for  a  people  who 
boast  of  governing  themselves  there  could  not  be  a  more  im- 
portant subject  of  investigation.  1  therefore  listened  atten- 
tively, expecting  to  hear  from  "the  most  enlightened  people 
under  the  sun" — for  so  they  modestly  term  themselves — 
sublime  disputations  on  the  science  of  legislation  and  pre- 
cepts of  political  wisdom  that  would  not  have  disgraced  our 
great  prophet  and  legislator  himself  1  But,  alas,  Asem!  how 


308  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ii}<$toi?  Iruii)<? 

continually  are  my  expectations  disappointed !  how  dignified 
a  meaning  does  this  word  bear  in  the  dictionary ;  how  des- 
picable its  common  application ;  I  find  it  extending  to  every 
contemptible  discussion  of  local  animosity,  and  every  petty 
altercation  of  insignificant  individuals.  It  embraces,  alike, 
all  manner  of  concerns ;  from  the  organization  of  a  divan,  the 
election  of  a  bashaw,  or  the  levying  of  an  army,  to  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  constable,  the  personal  disputes  of  two  mis- 
erable slang-whangers,  the  cleaning  of  the  streets,  or  the 
economy  of  a  dirt-cart.  A  couple  of  politicians  will  quarrel, 
with  the  most  vociferous  pertinacity,  about  the  character  of 
a  bum-bailiff  whom  nobody  cares  for;  or  the  deportment  of 
a  little  great  man  whom  nobody  knows.  And  this  is  called 
talking  politics.  Nay !  it  is  but  a  few  days  since  that  I  was 
annoyed  by  a  debate  between  two  of  my  fellow-lodgers,  who 
were  magnanimously  employed  in  condemning  a  luckless 
wight  to  infamy,  because  he  chose  to  wear  a  red  coat,  and 
to  entertain  certain  erroneous  opinions  some  thirty  years  ago. 
Shocked  at  their  illiberal  and  vindictive  spirit,  I  rebuked 
them  for  thus  indulging  in  slander  and  uncharitableness  about 
the  color  of  a  coat,  which  had  doubtless  for  many  years  been 
worn  out;  or  the  belief  in  errors,  which,  in  all  probability, 
had  been  long  since  atoned  for  and  abandoned;  but  they 
justified  themselves  by  alleging  that  they  were  only  engaged 
in  politics,  and  exerting  that  liberty  of  speech  and  freedom 
of  discussion  which  was  the  glory  and  safeguard  of  their 
national  independence.  "Oh,  Mahomet!"  thought  I,  "what 
a  country  must  that  be  which  builds  its  political  safety  on 
ruined  characters  and  the  persecution  of  individuals!" 

Into  what  transports  of  surprise  and  incredulity  am  I  con- 
tinually betrayed,  as  the  character  of  this  eccentric  people 
gradually  develops  itself  to  my  observations.  Every  new 
research  increases  the  perplexities  in  which  I  am  involved, 
and  I  am  more  than  ever  at  a  loss  where  to  place  them  in 
the  scale  of  my  estimation.  It  is  thus  the  philosopher,  in 
pursuing  truth  through  the  labyrinth  of  doubt,  error,  and 
misrepresentation,  frequently  finds  himself  bewildered  in  the 


209 

mazes  of  contradictory  experience;  and  almost  wishes  he 
could  quietly  retrace  his  wandering  steps,  steal  back  into  the 
path  of  honest  ignorance,  and  jog  on  once  more  in  contented 
indifference. 

How  fertile  in  these  contradictions  is  this  extensive  lo- 
gocracy !  Men  of  different  nations,  manners  and  languages 
live  in  this  country  in  the  most  perfect  harmony ;  and  noth- 
ing is  more  common  than  to  see  individuals,  whose  respective 
governments  are  at  variance,  taking  each  other  by  the  hand 
and  exchanging  the  offices  of  friendship.  Nay,  even  on  the 
subject  of  religion,  which,  as  it  affects  our  dearest  interests, 
our  earliest  opinions  and  prejudices,  some  warmth  and  heart- 
burnings might  be  excused,  which,  even  in  our  enlightened 
country,  is  so  fruitful  in  difference  between  man  and  man! 
Even  religion  occasions  no  dissension  among  these  people; 
and  it  has  even  been  discovered  by  one  of  their  sages  that 
believing  in  one  God  or  twenty  gods  "neither  breaks  a 
man's  leg  nor  picks  his  pocket."  The  idolatrous  Persian 
may  here  bow  down  before  his  everlasting  fire  and  prostrate 
himself  toward  the  glowing  east.  The  Chinese  may  adore 
his  Fo,  or  his  Josh;  the  Egyptian  his  stork;  and  the  Mussul- 
man practice,  unmolested,  the  divine  precepts  of  our  im- 
mortal prophet.  Nay,  even  the  forlorn,  abandoned  Atheist, 
who  lies  down  at  night  without  committing  himself  to  the 
protection  of  Heaven,  and  rises  in  the  morning  without  re- 
turning thanks  for  his  safety;  who  hath  no  deity  but  hia 
own  will;  whose  soul,  like  the  sandy  desert,  is  barren  of 
every  flower  of  hope  to  throw  a  solitary  bloom  over  the  dead 
level  of  sterility  and  soften  the  wide  extent  of  desolation; 
whose  darkened  views  extend  not  beyond  the  horizon  that 
bounds  his  cheerless  existence ;  to  whom  no  blissful  perspect- 
ive opens  beyond  the  grave ;  even  he  is  suffered  to  indulge 
in  his  desperate  opinions,  without  exciting  one  other  emotion 
than  pity  or  contempt.  But  this  mild  and  tolerating  spirit 
reaches  not  beyond  the  pale  of  religion.  Once  differ  in 
politics,  in  mere  theories,  visions,  and  chimeras,  the  growth 
of  interest,  of  folly,  or  madness,  and  deadly  warfare  ensues; 


210  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ip<$top 

every  eye  flashes  fire,  every  tongue  is  loaded  with  reproacn, 
and  every  heart  is  filled  with  gall  and  bitterness. 

At  this  period  several  unjustifiable  and  serious  injuries  on 
the  part  of  the  barbarians  of  the  British  island  have  given  a 
new  impulse  to  the  tongue  and  the  pen,  and  occasioned  a 
terrible  wordy  fever.— Do  not  suppose,  my  friend,  that  I 
mean  to  condemn  any  proper  and  dignified  expression  of  re  • 
sentment  for  injuries.  On  the  contrary,  I  love  to  see  a  word 
before  a  blow:  for  "in  the  fullness  of  the  heart  the  tongue 
moveth."  But  my  long  experience  has  convinced  me  that 
people  who  talk  the  most  about  taking  satisfaction  for 
affronts  generally  content  themselves  with  talking  instead 
of  revenging  the  insult;  like  the  street  women  of  this  coun- 
try, who,  after  a  prodigious  scolding,  quietly  sit  down  and 
fan  themselves  cool  as  fast  as  possible.  But  to  return :  the 
rage  for  talking  has  now,  in  consequence  of  the  aggressions 
I  alluded  to,  increased  to  a  degree  far  beyond  what  I  have 
observed  heretofore.  In  the  gardens  of  his  highness  of 
Tripoli  are  fifteen  thousand  bee-hives,  three  hundred  pea- 
cocks, and  a  prodigious  number  of  parrots  and  baboons ;  and 
yet  I  declare  to  thee,  Asem,  that  their  buzzing,  and  squall- 
ing, and  chattering  is  nothing  compared  to  the  wild  uproar 
and  war  of  words  now  raging  within  the  bosom  of  this 
mighty  and  distracted  logocracy.  Politics  pervade  every 
city,  every  village,  every  temple,  every  porter-house.  The 
universal  question  is,  ""What  is  the  news?"  This  is  a  kind 
of  challenge  to  political  debate ;  and  as  no  two  men  think 
exactly  alike,  'tis  ten  to  one  but  before  they  finish  all  the 
polite  phrases  in  the  language  are  exhausted  by  way  of  giv- 
ing fire  and  energy  to  argument.  What  renders  this  talking 
fever  more  alarming  is  that  the  people  appear  to  be  in  the 
unhappy  state  of  a  patient  whose  palate  nauseates  the  medi- 
cine best  calculated  for  the  cure  of  his  disease,  and  seem 
anxious  to  continue  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  their  chattering 
epidemic.  They  alarm  each  other  by  direful  reports  and 
fearful  apprehensions ;  like  I  have  seen  a  knot  of  old  wives 
in  this  country  entertain  themselves  with  stories  of  ghosts 


Salma^urjdi  211 

and  goblins  until  their  imaginations  were  in  a  most  agonizing 
panic.  Every  day  begets  some  new  tale,  big  with  agitation ; 
and  the  busy  goddess,  Rumor,  to  speak  in  the  poetic  lan- 
guage of  the  Christians,  is  constantly  in  motion.  She  mounts 
her  rattling  stage-wagon  and  gallops  about  the  country, 
freighted  with  a  load  of  "hints,"  "informations,"  "extracts 
of  letters  from  respectable  gentlemen,"  "observations  of 
respectable  correspondents,"  and  "unquestionable  authori- 
ties' ' — which  her  high-priests,  the  slang- whangers,  retail  to 
their  sapient  followers  with  all  the  solemnity,  and  all  the 
authenticity,  of  oracles.  True  it  is,  the  unfortunate  slang- 
whangers  are  sometimes  at  a  loss  for  food  to  supply  this  in- 
satiable appetite  for  intelligence;  and  are,  not  infrequently, 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  manufacturing  dishes  suited  to 
the  taste  of  the  times ;  to  be  served  up  as  morning  and  even- 
ing repasts  to  their  disciples. 

When  the  hungry  politician  is  thus  full  charged  with  im- 
portant information,  he  sallies  forth  to  give  due  exercise  to 
his  tongue;  and  tells  all  he  knows  to  everybody  he  meets. 
Now  it  is  a  thousand  to  one  that  every  person  he  meets  is 
just  as  wise  as  himself,  charged  with  the  same  articles  of 
information,  and  possessed  of  the  same  violent  inclination  to 
give  it  vent;  for  in  this  country  every  man  adopts  some 
particular  slang- whanger  as  the  standard  of  his  judgment, 
and  reads  everything  he  writes,  if  he  reads  nothing  else; 
which  is  doubtless  the  reason  why  the  people  of  this  logoc- 
racy  are  so  marvelously  enlightened.  So  away  they  tilt  at 
each  other  with  their  borrowed  lances,  advancing  to  the 
combat  with  the  opinions  and  speculations  of  their  respective 
slang- whangers,  which  in  all  probability  are  diametrically 
opposite.  Here,  then,  arises  as  fair  an  opportunity  for  a 
battle  of  words  as  heart  could  wish;  and  thou  mayest  rely 
upon  it,  Asem,  they  do  not  let  it  pass  unimproved.  They 
sometimes  begin  with  argument ;  but  in  process  of  time,  as 
the  tongue  begins  to  wax  wanton,  other  auxiliaries  become 
necessary ;  recrimination  commences ;  reproach  follows  close 
at  its  heels;  from  political  abuse  they  proceed  to  personal; 


212  U/orKs  of 

and  thus  often  is  a  friendship  of  years  trampled  down  by 
this  contemptible  enemy,  this  gigantic  dwarf  of  "politics," 
the  mongrel  issue  of  groveling  ambition  and  aspiring  igno- 
rance! 

There  would  be  but  little  harm  indeed  in  all  this,  if  it 
ended  merely  in  a  broken  head;  for  this  might  soon  be 
healed,  and  the  scar,  if  any  remained,  might  serve  as  a 
warning  ever  after  against  the  indulgence  of  political  in- 
temperance— at  the  worst,  the  loss  of  such  heads  as  these 
would  be  a  gain  to  the  nation.  But  the  evil  extends  far 
deeper ;  it  threatens  to  impair  all  social  intercourse,  and  even 
to  sever  the  sacred  union  of  family  and  kindred.  The  con- 
vivial table  is  disturbed;  the  cheerful  fireside  is  invaded;  the 
smile  of  social  hilarity  is  chased  away ;  the  bond  of  social 
love  is  broken,  by  the  everlasting  intrusion  of  this  fiend  of 
contention,  who  lurks  in  the  sparkling  bowl,  crouches  by  the 
fireside,  growls  in  the  friendly  circle,  infests  every  avenue 
to  pleasure ;  and,  like  the  scowling  incubus,  sits  on  the  bosom 
of  society,  pressing  down  and  smothering  every  throb  and 
pulsation  of  liberal  philanthropy. 

But  thou  wilt  perhaps  ask,  "What  can  these  people  dis- 
pute about?  one  would  suppose  that,  being  all  free  and  equal, 
they  would  harmonize  as  brothers;  children  of  the  same 
parent,  and  equal  heirs  of  the  same  inheritance."  This 
theory  is  most  exquisite,  my  good  friend,  but  in  practice  it 
turns  out  the  very  dream  of  a  madman.  Equality,  Asem, 
is  one  of  the  most  consummate  scoundrels  that  ever  crept 
from  the  brain  of  a  political  juggler — a  fellow  who  thrusts 
his  hand  into  the  pocket  of  honest  industry  or  enterprising 
talent,  and  squanders  their  hard-earned  profits  on  profligate 
idleness  or  indolent  stupidity.  There  will  always  be  an  in- 
equality among  mankind  so  long  as  a  portion  of  it  is  enlight- 
ened and  industrious,  and  the  rest  idle  and  ignorant.  The 
one  will  acquire  a  larger  share  of  wealth,  and  its  attendant 
comforts,  refinements,  and  luxuries  of  life  •,  and  the  influence 
and  power  which  those  will  always  possess  who  have  the 
greatest  ability  of  administering  to  the  necessities  of  their 


y  Salma$ui)df 

fellow-creatures.  These  advantages  will  inevitably  excite 
envy;  and  envy  as  inevitably  begets  ill-will:  hence  arises 
that  eternal  warfare  which  the  lower  orders  of  society  are 
waging  against  those  who  have  raised  themselves  by  their 
own  merits,  or  have  been  raised  by  the  merits  of  their  an- 
cestors, above  the  common  level.  In  a  nation  possessed  of 
quick  feelings  and  impetuous  passions,  the  hostility  might 
engender  deadly  broils  and  bloody  commotions ;  but  here  it 
merely  vents  itself  in  high-sounding  words,  which  lead  to 
continual  breaches  of  decorum ;  or  in  the  insidious  assassina- 
tion of  character,  and  a  restless  propensity  among  the  base 
to  blacken  every  reputation  which  is  fairer  than  their  own. 
I  cannot  help  smiling  sometimes  to  see  the  solicitude  with 
which  the  people  of  America,  so  called  from  the  country 
having  been  first  discovered  by  Christopher  Columbus,  battle 
about  them  when  any  election  takes  place ;  as  if  they  had 
the  least  concern  in  the  matter,  or  were  to  be  benefited  by  an 
exchange  of  bashaws.  They  really  seem  ignorant  that  none 
but  the  bashaws  and  their  dependents  are  at  all  interested  in 
the  event ;  and  that  the  people  at  large  will  not  find  their 
situation  altered  in  the  least.  I  formerly  gave  thee  an  ac- 
count of  an  election  which  took  place  under  my  eye.  The 
result  has  been  that  the  people,  as  some  of  the  slang-whang- 
ers  say,  have  obtained  a  glorious  triumph ;  which,  however, 
is  flatly  denied  by  the  opposite  slang- whangers,  who  insist 
that  their  party  is  composed  of  the  true  sovereign  people,  and 
that  the  others  are  all  Jacobins,  Frenchmen,  and  Irish  rebels. 
I  ought  to  apprise  thee  that  the  last  is  a  term  of  great  re- 
proach here;  which,  perhaps,  thou  wouldst  not  otherwise 
imagine,  considering  that  it  is  not  many  years  since  this  very 
people  were  engaged  in  revolution;  the  failure  of  which 
would  have  subjected  them  to  the  same  ignominious  epithet, 
and  a  participation  in  which  is  now  the  highest  recommenda- 
tion to  public  confidence.  By  Mahomet,  but  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  the  consistency  of  this  people,  like  everything 
else  appertaining  to  them,  is  on  a  prodigious  great  scale ! — To 
return,  however,  to  the  event  of  the  election.  The  people 


214  U/orKs  of  U/a«l?io$tor? 

triumphed;  and  much  good  has  it  done  them.  I,  for  my 
part,  expected  to  see  wonderful  changes  and  most  magical 
metamorphoses.  I  expected  to  see  the  people  all  rich,  that 
they  would  be  all  gentlemen  bashaws,  riding  in  their  coaches 
and  faring  sumptuously  every  day;  emancipated  from  toil, 
and  reveling  in  luxurious  ease.  Wilt  thou  credit  me,  Asem, 
when  I  declare  to  thee  that  everything  remains  exactly  in  the 
same  state  it  was  before  the  last  wordy  campaign?  Except 
a  few  noisy  retainers  who  have  crept  into  office,  and  a  few 
noisy  patriots,  on  the  other  side,  who  have  been  kicked  out, 
there  is  not  the  least  difference.  The  laborer  toils  for  his 
daily  support;  the  beggar  still  lives  on  the  charity  of  those 
who  have  any  charity  to  bestow ;  and  the  only  solid  satisfac- 
tion the  multitude  have  reaped  is,  that  they  have  got  a  new 
governor,  or  bashaw,  whom  they  will  praise,  idolize,  and 
exalt  for  a  while ;  and  afterward,  notwithstanding  the  ster- 
ling merits  he  really  possesses,  in  compliance  with  immemorial 
custom  they  will  abuse,  calumniate,  and  trample  him  under 
foot. 

Such,  my  dear  Asem,  is  the  way  in  which  the  wise  people 
of  "the  most  enlightened  country  under  the  sun"  are  amused 
with  straws  and  puffed  up  with  mighty  conceits;  like  a  cer- 
tain fish  I  have  seen  here,  which,  having  his  belly  tickled 
for  a  short  time,  will  swell  and  puff  himself  up  to  twice  his 
usual  size,  and  become  a  mere  bladder  of  wind  and  vanity. 

The  blessing  of  a  true  Mussulman  light  on  thee,  good 
Asem ;  ever  while  thou  livest  be  true  to  thy  prophet ;  and 
rejoice  that,  though  the  boasting  political  chatterers  of  this 
logocracy  cast  upon  thy  countrymen  the  ignominious  epithet 
of  slaves,  thou  livest  in  a  country  where  the  people,  instead 
of  being  at  the  mercy  of  a  tyrant  with  a  million  of  heads, 
have  nothing  to  do  but  submit  to  the  will  of  a  bashaw  of 
only  three  tails.  Ever  thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 


Salma<$ur?di  215 

COCKLOFT  HALL 

BY    LAUNCELOT    LANGSTAFF,     ESQ. 

THOSE  who  pass  their  time  immured  in  the  smoky  cir- 
cumference of  the  city,  amid  the  rattling  of  carts,  the  brawl- 
ing of  the  multitude,  and  the  variety  of  unmeaning  and 
discordant  sounds  that  prey  insensibly  upon  the  nerves  and 
beget  a  weariness  of  the  spirits,  can  alone  understand  and 
feel  that  expansion  of  the  heart,  that  physical  renovation 
which  a  citizen  experiences  when  he  steals  forth  from  his 
dusty  prison  to  breathe  the  free  air  of  heaven  and  enjoy  the 
clear  face  of  nature.  Who  that  has  rambled  by  the  side  of 
one  of  our  majestic  rivers  at  the  hour  of  sunset,  when  the 
wildly  romantic  scenery  around  is  softened  and  tinted  by 
the  voluptuous  mist  of  evening ;  when  the  bold  and  swelling 
outlines  of  the  distant  mountain  seem  melting  into  the  glow- 
ing horizon  and  a  rich  mantle  of  refulgence  is  thrown  over 
the  whole  expanse  of  the  heavens,  but  must  have  felt  how 
abundant  is  nature  in  sources  of  pure  enjoyment;  how  lux- 
uriant in  all  that  can  enliven  the  senses  or  delight  the  im- 
agination. The  jocund  zephyr,  full  freighted  with  native 
fragrance,  sues  sweetly  to  the  senses;  the  chirping  of  the 
thousand  varieties  of  insects  with  which  our  woodlands 
abound,  forms  a  concert  of  simple  melody;  even  the  barking 
of  the  farm  dog,  the  lowing  of  the  cattle,  the  tinkling  of  their 
bells,  and  the  strokes  of  the  woodman's  ax  from  the  opposite 
shore,  seem  to  partake  of  the  softness  of  the  scene  and  fall 
tunefully  upon  the  ear;  while  the  voice  of  the  villager, 
chanting  some  rustic  ballad,  swells  from  a  distance  in  the 
semblance  of  the  very  music  of  harmonious  love. 

At  such  time  I  feel  a  sensation  of  sweet  tranquillity ;  a 
hallowed  calm  is  diffused  over  my  senses;  I  cast  my  eyes 
around,  and  every  object  is  serene,  simple,  and  beautiful; 
no  warring  passion,  no  discordant  string  there  vibrates  to  the 


216  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi)  Iruii)$ 

touch  of  ambition,  self-interest,  hatred,  or  revenge.  I  am 
at  peace  with  the  whole  world  and  hail  all  mankind  as  friends 
and  brothers.  Blissful  moments !  ye  recall  the  careless  days 
of  my  boyhood,  when  mere  existence  was  happiness,  when 
hope  was  certainty,  this  world  a  paradise,  and  every  woman 
a  ministering  angel !  Surely  man  was  designed  for  a  tenant 
of  the  universe,  instead  of  being  pent  up  in  these  dismal 
cages,  these  dens  of  strife,  disease,  and  discord.  We  were 
created  to  range  the  fields,  to  sport  among  the  groves,  to 
build  castles  in  the  air,  and  have  every  one  of  them  realized! 

A  whole  legion  of  reflections  like  these  insinuated  them- 
selves into  my  mind,  and  stole  me  from  the  influence  of  the 
cold  realities  before  me,  as  I  took  my  accustomed  walk,  a 
few  weeks  since,  on  the  Battery.  Here,  watching  the 
splendid  mutations  of  one  of  our  summer  skies,  which 
emulated  the  boasted  glories  of  an  Italian  sunset,  I  all  at 
once  discovered  that  it  was  but  pack  up  my  portmanteau, 
bid  adieu  for  a  while  to  my  elbow-chair,  and  in  a  little 
tune  I  should  be  transported  from  the  region  of  smoke,  and 
noise,  and  dust,  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  far  sweeter  prospect 
and  a  brighter  sky.  The  next  morning  I  was  off  full  tilt  to 
Cockloft  Hall,  leaving  my  man  Pompey  to  follow  at  his 
leisure  with  my  baggage.  I  love  to  indulge  in  rapid  transi- 
tions, which  are  prompted  by  the  quick  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment; 'tis  the  only  mode  of  guarding  against  that  intruding 
and  deadly  foe  to  all  parties  of  pleasure — anticipation. 

Having  now  made  good  my  retreat,  until  the  black  frosts 
commence,  it  is  but  a  piece  of  civility  due  to  my  readers,  who 
I  trust  are,  ere  this,  my  friends,  to  give  them  a  proper  intro- 
duction to  my  present  residence.  I  do  this  as  much  to  gratify 
them  as  myself;  well  knowing  a  reader  is  always  anxious  to 
learn  how  his  author  is  lodged,  whether  in  a  garret,  a  cellar, 
a  hovel,  or  a  palace — at  least  an  author  is  generally  vain 
enough  to  think  so,  and  an  author's  vanity  ought  sometimes 
to  be  gratified.  Poor  vagabond  1  it  is  often  the  only  gratifica- 
tion he  ever  tastes  in  this  world ! 

Cockloft  Hall  is  the  country  residence  of  the  family,  or 


217 

rather  the  paternal  mansion ;  which,  like  the  mother  country, 
sends  forth  whole  colonies  to  populate  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Pindar  whimsically  denominates  it  the  family  hive!  and 
there  is  at  least  as  much  truth  as  humor  in  my  cousin's 
epithet;  for  many  a  redundant  swarm  has  it  produced.  I 
don't  recollect  whether  I  have  at  any  time  mentioned  to  my 
readers,  for  I  seldom  look  back  on  what  I  have  written,  that 
the  fertility  of  the  Cocklofts  is  proverbial.  The  female 
members  of  the  family  are  most  incredibly  fruitful;  and  to 
use  a  favorite  phrase  of  old  Cockloft,  who  is  excessively 
addicted  to  backgammon,  they  seldom  fail  "to  throw  doublets 
every  time."  I  myself  have  known  three  or  four  very  in- 
dustrious young  men  reduced  to  great  extremities,  with  some 
of  these  capital  breeders;  heaven  smiled  upon  their  union, 
and  enriched  them  with  a  numerous  and  hopeful  offspring — 
who  eat  them  out  of  doors. 

But  to  return  to  the  Hall. — It  is  pleasantly  situated  on  the 
bank  of  a  sweet  pastoral  stream:  not  so  near  town  as  to 
invite  an  inundation  of  unmeaning,  idle  acquaintance,  who 
come  to  lounge  away  an  afternoon ;  nor  so  distant  as  to  ren- 
der it  an  absolute  deed  of  charity  or  friendship  to  perform 
the  journey.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  habitations  hi  the  coun- 
try, and  was  built  by  my  cousin  Christopher's  grandfather, 
who  was  also  mine  by  the  mother's  side,  in  his  latter  days, 
to  form,  as  the  old  gentleman  expressed  himself,  "a  snug 
retreat,  where  he  meant  to  sit  himself  down  in  his  old  days 
and  be  comfortable  for  the  rest  of  his  life."  He  was  at  this 
time  a  few  years  over  fourscore;  but  this  was  a  common 
saying  of  his,  with  which  he  usually  closed  his  airy  specula- 
tions. One  would  have  thought,  from  the  long  vista  of  years 
through  which  he  contemplated  many  of  his  projects,  that 
the  good  man  had  forgot  the  age  of  the  patriarchs  had  long 
since  gone  by,  and  calculated  upon  living  a  century  longer 
at  least.  He  was  for  a  considerable  time  in  doubt  on  the 
question  of  roofing  his  house  with  shingles  or  slate :  shingles 
would  not  last  above  thirty  years !  but  then  they  were  much 
cheaper  than  elates.  He  settled  the  matter  by  a  kind  of  com- 

*  *  *  J  VOL.  V. 


#18  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii}$tor) 

promise,  and  determined  to  build  with  shingles  first:  "And 
when  they  are  worn  out,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  triumph- 
antly, "  'twill  be  time  enough  to  replace  them  with  more 
durable  materials!"  But  his  contemplated  improvements 
surpassed  everything;  and  scarcely  had  he  a  roof  over  his 
head  when  he  discovered  a  thousand  things  to  be  arranged 
before  he  could  "sit  down  comfortably."  In  the  first  place, 
every  tree  and  bush  on  the  place  was  cut  down  or  grubbed 
up  by  the  roots,  because  they  were  not  placed  to  his  mind ; 
and  a  vast  quantity  of  oaks,  chestnuts,  and  elms  set  out  in 
clumps  and  rows,  and  labyrinths,  which  he  observed  in  about 
five-and-twenty  or  thirty  years  at  most  would  yield  a  very 
tolerable  shade,  and,  moreover,  shut  out  all  the  surrounding 
country ;  for  he  was  determined,  he  said,  to  have  all  his  views 
on  his  own  land,  and  be  beholden  to  no  man  for  a  prospect. 
This,  my  learned  readers  will  perceive,  was  something  very 
like  the  idea  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  who  gave  as  a  reason  for 
preferring  one  of  his  seats  above  all  the  others,  "that  all  the 
ground  within  view  of  it  was  his  own."  Now,  whether  my 
grandfather  ever  heard  of  the  Medici  is  more  than  I  can 
say ;  I  rather  think,  however,  from  the  characteristic  origi- 
nality of  the  Cocklofts,  that  it  was  a  whim-wham  of  his  own 
begetting.  Another  odd  notion  of  the  old  gentleman  was  to 
blow  up  a  large  bed  of  rocks,  for  the  purpose  of  having  a 
fish-pond,  although  the  river  ran  at  about  one  hundred  yards' 
distance  from  the  house  and  was  well  stored  with  fish ;  but 
there  was  nothing,  Jie  said,  like  having  things  to  one's  self. 
So  at  it  he  went  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  projector  who  has 
just  hit  upon  some  splendid  and  useless  whim-wham.  As 
he  proceeded,  his  views  enlarged ;  he  would  have  a  summer, 
house  built  on  the  margin  of  the  fish-pond ;  he  would  have  it 
surrounded  with  elms  and  willows;  and  he  would  have  a  eel- 
Jar  dug  under  it,  for  some  incomprehensible  purpose  which 
remains  a  secret  to  this  day.  "In  a  few  years,"  he  observed, 
**it  would  be  a  delightful  piece  of  wood  and  water,  where  he 
might  ramble  on  a  summer's  noon,  smoke  his  pipe,  and  enjoy 
himself  in  his  old  days."  Thrice  honest  old  soul! — he  died 


219 

of  an  apoplexy  in  his  ninetieth  year,  just  as  he  had  begun 
to  blow  up  the  fish-pond. 

Let  no  one  ridicule  the  whim-whams  of  my  grandfather. 
If — and  of  this  there  is  no  doubt,  for  wise  men  have  said  it — 
if  life  is  but  a  dream,  happy  is  he  who  can  make  the  most  of 
the  illusion. 

Since  my  grandfather's  death,  the  Hall  has  passed  through 
the  hands  of  a  succession  of  true  old  cavaliers  like  himself, 
who  gloried  in  observing  the  golden  rules  of  hospitality; 
which,  according  to  the  Cockloft  principle,  consist  in  giving 
a  guest  the  freedom  of  the  house,  cramming  him  with  beef 
and  pudding,  and,  if  possible,  laying  him  under  the  table 
with  prime  port,  claret,  or  London  particular.  The  mansion 
appears  to  have  been  consecrated  to  the  jolly  god,  and  teems 
with  monuments  sacred  to  conviviality.  Every  chest  of 
drawers,  clothes-press,  and  cabinet,  is  decorated  with  enor- 
mous china  punch-bowls,  which  Mrs.  Cockloft  has  paraded 
with  much  ostentation,  particularly  in  her  favorite  red  damask 
bedchamber,  and  in  which  a  projector  might,  with  great  sat- 
isfaction, practice  his  experiments  on  fleets,  diving-bells,  and 
submarine  boats. 

I  have  before  mentioned  Cousin  Christopher's  profound 
veneration  for  antique  furniture ;  in  consequence  of  which 
the  old  Hall  is  furnished  in  much  the  same  style  with  the 
house  in  town.  Old-fashioned  bedsteads,  with  high  testers; 
massy  clothes-presses,  standing  most  majestically  on  eagles' 
claws,  and  ornamented  with  a  profusion  of  shining  brass 
handles,  clasps,  and  hinges;  and  around  the  grand  parlor 
are  solemnly  arranged  a  set  of  high-backed,  leather-bot- 
tomed, massy,  mahogany  chairs,  that  always  remind  me  of 
the  formal  long-waisted  belles  who  flourished  in  stays  and 
buckram  about  the  time  they  were  in  fashion. 

If  I  may  judge  from  their  height,  it  was  not  the  fashion 
for  gentlemen  in  those  days  to  loll  over  the  back  of  a  lady's 
chair  and  whisper  in  her  ear  what — might  be  as  well  spoken 
aloud;  at  least,  they  must  have  been  Patagonians  to  have 
effected  it.  Will  Wizard  declares  that  he  saw  a  little  fat 


#20  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii}$toi) 

German  gallant  attempt  once  to  whisper  Miss  Barbara  Cock- 
loft in  this  manner,  but  being  unluckily  caught  by  the  chin, 
he  dangled  and  kicked  about  for  half  a  minute  before  he 
could  find  terra  firma;  but  Will  is  much  addicted  to  hyper- 
bole, by  reason  of  his  having  been  a  great  traveler. 

But  what  the  Cocklofts  most  especially  pride  themselves 
upon  is  the  possession  of  several  family  portraits,  which  ex- 
hibit as  honest  a  square  set  of  portly,  well-fed  looking  gen  • 
tlemen,  and  gentlewomen,  as  ever  grew  and  flourished  under 
the  pencil  of  a  Dutch  painter.  Old  Christopher,  who  is  a 
complete  genealogist,  has  a  story  to  tell  of  each ;  and  dilates 
with  copious  eloquence  on  the  great  services  of  the  general 
in  large  sleeves  during  the  old  French  war;  and  on  the  piety 
of  the  lady  in  blue  velvet,  who  so  attentively  peruses  her 
book,  and  was  once  so  celebrated  for  a  beautiful  arm :  but 
much  as  I  reverence  my  illustrious  ancestors,  I  find  little 
to  admire  in  their  biography,  except  my  cousin's  excellent 
memory;  which  is  most  provokingly  retentive  of  every  unin- 
teresting particular. 

My  allotted  chamber  in  the  Hall  is  the  same  that  was 
occupied  in  days  of  yore  by  my  honored  uncle  John.  The 
room  exhibits  many  memorials  which  recall  to  my  remem- 
brance the  solid  excellence  and  amiable  eccentricities  of  that 
gallant  old  lad.  Over  the  mantel-piece  hangs  the  portrait  of 
a  young  lady  dressed  in  a  flaring,  long-waisted,  blue-silk 
gown;  be-flowered,  and  be-furbelowed,  and  be-cuffed,  in  a 
most  abundant  manner ;  she  holds  in  one  hand  a  book,  which 
she  very  complaisantly  neglects  to  turn  and  smile  on  the 
spectator;  in  the  other  a  flower,  which  I  hope,  for  the  honor 
of  Dame  Nature,  was  the  sole  production  of  the  painter's 
imagination ;  and  a  little  behind  her  is  something  tied  to  a 
blue  ribbon,  but  whether  a  little  dog,  a  monkey,  or  a  pigeon, 
must  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  future  commentators.  This 
little  damsel,  tradition  says,  was  my  uncle  John's  third  flame ; 
and  he  would  infallibly  have  run  away  with  her  could  he 
have  persuaded  her  into  the  measure ;  but  at  that  time  ladies 
were  not  quite  so  easily  run  awa^  with  as  Columbine;  and 


221 

my  uncle,  failing  in  the  point,  took  a  lucky  thought,  and 
with  great  gallantry  run  off  with  her  picture,  which  he  con- 
veyed in  triumph  to  Cockloft  Hall,  and  hung  up  in  his  bed- 
chamber as  a  monument  of  his  enterprising  spirit.  The  old 
gentleman  prided  himself  mightily  on  this  chivalric  ma- 
neuver; always  chuckled,  and  pulled  up  his  stock  when  he 
contemplated  the  picture,  and  never  related  the  exploit  with- 
out winding  up  with — "I  might,  indeed,  have  carried  off  the 
original  had  I  chose  to  dangle  a  little  longer  after  her  chariot- 
wheels;  for,  to  do  the  girl  justice,  I  believe  she  had  a  liking 
for  me;  but  I  always  scorned  to  coax,  my  boy — always^- 
'twas  my  way."  My  uncle  John  was  of  a  happy  tempera- 
ment; I  would  give  half  I  am  worth  for  his  talent  at  self  - 
consolation. 

The  Misses  Cockloft  have  made  several  spirited  attempts 
to  introduce  modern  furniture  into  the  Hall ;  but  with  very 
indifferent  success.  Modern  style  has  always  been  an  object 
of  great  annoyance  to  honest  Christopher ;  and  is  ever  treated 
by  him  with  sovereign  contempt,  as  an  upstart  intruder.  It 
is  a  common  observation  of  his  that  your  old-fashioned  sub- 
stantial furniture  bespeaks  the  respectability  of  one's  ances- 
tors, and  indicates  that  the  family  has  been  used  to  hold  up 
its  head  for  more  than  the  present  generation ;  whereas  the 
fragile  appendages  of  modern  style  seemed  to  be  emblems  of 
mushroom  gentility;  and,  to  his  mind,  predicted  that  the 
family  dignity  would  moulder  away  and  vanish  with  the 
finery  thus  put  on  of  a  sudden.  The  same  whim-wham 
makes  him  averse  to  having  his  house  surrounded  with  pop- 
lars ;  which  he  stigmatizes  as  mere  upstarts,  just  fit  to  orna- 
ment the  shingle  palaces  of  modern  gentry  and  characteris- 
tic of  the  establishments  they  decorate.  Indeed,  so  far  does 
he  carry  his  veneration  for  all  the  antique  trumpery  that  he 
can  scarcely  see  the  venerable  dust  brushed  from  its  resting 
place  on  the  old-fashioned  testers,  or  a  gray-bearded  spider 
dislodged  from  his  ancient  inheritance  without  groaning ;  and 
I  once  saw  him  in  a  transport  of  passion  on  Jeremy's  knock- 
ing down  a  mouldering  martin-coop  with  his  tennis-ball, 


of 

which  had  been  set  up  in  the  latter  days  of  my  grandfather. 
Another  object  of  his  peculiar  affection  is  an  old  English 
cherry  tree  which  leans  against  a  corner  of  the  Hall;  and 
whether  the  house  supports  it,  or  it  supports  the  house,  would 
be,  I  believe,  a  question  of  some  difficulty  to  decide.  It  is 
held  sacred  by  friend  Christopher  because  he  planted  and 
reared  it  himself,  and  had  once  wellnigh  broken  his  neck  by 
a  fall  from  one  of  its  branches.  This  is  one  of  his  favorite 
stories :  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  if  the  tree  was  out 
of  the  way  the  old  gentleman  would  forget  the  whole  affair; 
which  would  be  a  great  pity.  The  old  tree  has  long  since 
ceased  bearing,  and  is  exceedingly  infirm;  every  tempest 
robs  it  of  a  limb ;  and  one  would  suppose,  from  the  lamen- 
tations of  my  old  friend  on  such  occasions,  that  he  had  lost 
one  of  his  own.  He  often  contemplates  it  in  a  half -melan- 
choly, half -moralizing  humor — "Together,"  he  says,  "have 
we  flourished,  and  together  shall  we  wither  away.  A  few 
years,  and  both  our  heads  will  be  laid  low ;  and,  perhaps,  my 
mouldering  bones  may,  one  day  or  other,  mingle  with  the 
dust  of  the  tree  I  have  planted."  He  often  fancies,  he  says, 
that  it  rejoices  to  see  him  when  he  revisits  the  Hall ;  and  that 
its  leaves  assume  a  brighter  verdure,  as  if  to  welcome  his  ar- 
rival. How  whimsically  are  our  tenderest  feelings  assailed! 
At  one  time  the  old  tree  had  obtruded  a  withered  branch  be- 
fore Miss  Barbara's  window,  and  she  desired  her  father  to 
order  the  gardener  to  saw  it  off.  I  shall  never  forget  the  old 
man's  answer,  and  the  look  that  accompanied  it.  "What," 
cried  he,  "lop  off  the  limbs  of  my  cherry  tree  in  its  old  age? 
— why  do  you  not  cut  off  the  gray  locks  of  your  poor  old 
father?" 

Do  my  readers  yawn  at  this  long  family  detail?  They 
are  welcome  to  throw  down  our  work  and  never  resume  it 
again.  I  have  no  care  for  such  ungratified  spirits,  and  will 
not  throw  away  a  thought  on  one  of  them;  full  often  have  I 
contributed  to  their  amusement,  and  have  1  not  a  right,  for 
once,  to  consult  my  own?  Who  is  there  that  does  not  fondly 
turn,  at  times,  to  Jinger  round  those  scenes  which  were  once 


Salma^urjdl  223 

the  haunt  of  his  boyhood,  ere  his  heart  grew  heavy  and  his 
head  waxed  gray ;  and  to  dwell  with  fond  affection  on  the 
friends  who  have  twined  themselves  round  his  heart,  mingled 
,  in  all  his  enjoyments,  contributed  to  all  his  felicities?  If 
there  be  any  who  cannot  relish  these  enjoyments  let  them 
despair;  for  they  have  been  so  soiled  in  their  intercourse 
with  the  world  as  to  be  incapable  of  tasting  some  of  the  purest 
pleasures  that  survive  the  happy  period  of  youth. 

To  such  as  have  not  yet  lost  the  rural  feeling,  I  address 
this  simple  family  picture ;  and  in  the  honest  sincerity  of  a 
warm  heart,  I  invite  them  to  turn  aside  from  bustle,  care,  and 
toil,  to  tarry  with  me  for  a  season  in  the  hospitable  mansion 
of  the  Cocklofts. 


I  WAS  really  apprehensive,  on  reading  the  following  effu- 
sion of  Will  Wizard,  that  he  still  retained  that  pestilent  hank« 
ering  after  puns  of  which  we  lately  convicted  him.  He, 
however,  declares  that  he  is  fully  authorized  by  the  example 
of  the  most  popular  critics  and  wits  of  the  present  age,  whose 
manner  and  matter  he  has  closely  and,  he  flatters  himself, 
successfully  copied  in  the  subsequent  essay. 


THEATRICAL   INTELLIGENCE 

BY   WILLIAM   WIZARD,    ESQ. 

THE  uncommon  healthiness  of  the  season,  occasioned,  as 
several  learned  physicians  assure  me,  by  the  universal  prev« 
alence  of  the  influenza,  has  encouraged  the  chieftain  of  our 
dramatic  corps  to  marshal  his  forces,  and  to  commence  the 
campaign  at  a  much  earlier  day  than  usual.  He  has  beei? 
induced  to  take  the  field  thus  suddenly,  I  am  told,  by  the 
invasion  of  certain  foreign  marauders,  who  pitched  their 
tents  at  Vauxhall  Garden  during  the  warm  months;  and 
taking  advantage  of  his  army  being  disbanded  and  dis- 


of 

persed  in  summer  quarters,  committed  sad  depredations  upon 
the  borders  of  his  territories :  carrying  off  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  his  winter  harvest,  and  murdering  some  of  his  most 
distinguished  characters. 

It  is  true,  these  hardy  invaders  have  been  reduced  to 
great  extremity  by  the  late  heavy  ranis,  which  injured  and 
destroyed  much  of  their  camp-equipage ;  besides  spoiling  the 
best  part  of  their  wardrobe.  Two  cities,  a  triumphal  car, 
and  a  new  moon  for  Cinderella,  together  with  the  barber's 
boy,  who  was  employed  every  night  to  powder  and  make  it 
shine  white,  have  been  entirely  washed  away,  and  the  sea 
has  become  very  wet  and  mouldy;  insomuch  that  great  ap- 
prehensions are  entertained  that  it  will  never  be  dry  enough 
for  use.  Add  to  this  the  noble  county  Paris  had  the  misfort- 
une to  tear  his  corduroy  breeches  in  the  scuffle  with  Romeo, 
by  reason  of  the  tomb  being  very  wet,  which  occasioned  him 
to  slip ;  and  he  and  his  noble  rival  possessing  but  one  poor 
pair  of  satin  ones  between  them,  were  reduced  to  consider- 
able shifts  to  keep  up  the  dignity  of  their  respective  houses. 
In  spite  of  these  disadvantages,  and  the  untoward  circum- 
stances, they  continued  to  enact  most  intrepidly;  performing 
with  much  ease  and  confidence,  inasmuch  as  they  were  sel- 
dom pestered  with  an  audience  to  criticise  and  put  them  out 
of  countenance.  It  is  rumored  that  the  last  heavy  shower 
absolutely  dissolved  the  company,  and  that  our  manager  has 
nothing  further  to  apprehend  from  that  quarter. 

The  theater  opened  on  Wednesday  last,  with  great  eclat, 
as  we  critics  say,  and  almost  vied  in  brilliancy  with  that  of 
my  superb  friend  Consequa  in  Canton;  where  the  castles 
were  all  ivory,  the  sea  mother-of-pearl,  the  skies  gold  and 
silver  leaf,  and  the  outside  of  the  boxes  inlaid  with  scallop 
shell-work.  Those  who  want  a  better  description  of  the 
theater  may  as  well  go  and  see  it;  and  then  they  can  judge 
for  themselves.  For  the  gratification  of  a  highly  respectable 
class  of  readers  who  love  to  see  everything  on  paper,  I  had 
indeed  prepared  a  circumstantial  and  truly  incomprehensible 
account  of  it,  such  as  your  traveler  always  fills  his  book  with, 


Salma<$ui)dl 

and  which  I  defy  the  most  intelligent  architect,  even  the 
great  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  to  understand.  I  had  jumbled 
cornices,  and  pilasters,  and  pillars,  and  capitals,  and  triglyphs, 
and  modules,  and  plinths,  and  volutes,  and  perspectives,  and 
foreshortenings,  helter-skelter;  and  had  set  all  the  orders  of 
architecture,  Doric,  Ionic,  Corinthian,  etc.,  together  by  the 
ears,  in  order  to  work  out  a  satisfactory  description ;  but  the 
manager  having  sent  me  a  polite  note,  requesting  that  I 
would  not  take  off  the  sharp  edge,  as  he  whimsically  ex- 
presses it,  of  public  curiosity,  thereby  diminishing  the  receipts 
of  his  house,  I  have  willingly  consented  to  oblige  him,  and 
have  left  my  description  at  the  store  of  our  publisher,  where 
any  person  may  see  it — provided  he  applies  at  a  proper  hour. 
I  cannot  refrain  here  from  giving  vent  to  the  satisfaction 
I  received  from  the  excellent  performances  of  the  different 
actors,  one  and  all;  and  particularly  the  gentlemen  who 
shifted  the  scenes,  who  acquitted  themselves  throughout 
with  great  celerity,  dignity,  pathos,  and  effect.  Nor  must 
I  pass  over  the  peculiar  merits  of  my  friend  John,  who  gal- 
lanted off  the  chairs  and  tables  in  the  most  dignified  and  cir. 
cumspect  manner.  Indeed,  I  have  had  frequent  occasion  to 
applaud  the  correctness  with  which  this  gentleman  fulfills 
the  parts  allotted  him,  and  consider  him  as  one  of  the  best 
general  performers  in  the  company.  My  friend,  the  cock- 
ney, found  considerable  fault  with  the  manner  in  which  John 
shoved  a  huge  rock  from  behind  the  scenes;  maintaining 
that  he  should  have  put  his  left  foot  forward,  and  pushed 
it  with  his  right  hand,  that  being  the  method  practiced  by 
his  contemporaries  of  the  royal  theaters,  and  universally  ap- 
proved by  their  best  critics.  He  also  took  exception  to  John's 
coat,  which  he  pronounced  too  short  by  a  foot  at  least ;  par- 
ticularly when  he  turned  his  back  to  the  company.  But  I 
look  upon  these  objections  in  the  same  light  as  new  readings, 
and  insist  that  John  shall  be  allowed  to  maneuver  his  chairs 
and  tables,  shove  his  rocks,  and  wear  his  skirts  in  that  style 
which  his  genius  best  affects.  My  hopes  in  the  rising  merit 
of  this  favorite  actor  daily  increase ;  and  I  would  hint  to  the 


226  U/or^s  of  U/asl?io^tOQ  Iruli}? 

manager  the  propriety  of  giving  him  a  benefit,  advertising, 
in  the  usual  style  of  play-bills,  as  a  "springe  to  catch  wood- 
cocks," that,  between  the  play  and  farce,  John  will  make  a 
bow — for  that  night  only! 

I  am  told  that  no  pains  have  been  spared  to  make  the 
exhibitions  of  this  season  as  splendid  as  possible.  Several 
expert  rat- catchers  have  been  sent  into  different  parts  of 
the  country  to  catch  white  mice  for  the  grand  pantomime 
of  " Cinderella."  A  nestful  of  little  squab  Cupids  have 
been  taken  in  the  neighborhood  of  Communipaw ;  they  are 
as  yet  but  half  fledged,  of  the  true  Holland  breed,  and  it  is 
hoped  will  be  able  to  fly  about  by  the  middle  of  October; 
otherwise  they  will  be  suspended  about  the  stage  by  the 
•waistband,  like  little  alligators  in  an  apothecary's  shop,  as 
the  pantomime  must  positively  be  performed  by  that  time. 
Great  pains  and  expense  have  been  incurred  in  the  importa- 
tion of  one  of  the  most  portly  pumpkins  in  New  England ; 
and  the  public  may  be  assured  there  is  now  one  on  board 
a  vessel  from  New  Haven  which  will  contain  Cinderella's 
coach  and  six  with  perfect  ease,  were  the  white  mice  even 
ten  times  as  large. 

Also  several  barrels  of  hail,  rain,  brimstone  and  gun- 
powder are  in  store  for  melodramas;  of  which  a  number  are 
to  be  played  off  this  winter.  It  is  furthermore  whispered  me 
that  the  great  thunder-drum  has  been  new  braced,  and  an 
expert  performer  on  that  instrument  engaged,  who  will  thun- 
der in  plain  English,  so  as  to  be  understood  by  the  most  illit- 
erate hearer.  This  will  be  infinitely  preferable  to  the  miser 
able  Italian  thunderer,  employed  last  winter  by  Mr.  Ciceri, 
who  performed  in  such  an  unnatural  and  outlandish  tongue 
that  none  but  the  scholars  of  Signer  Da  Ponte  could  under- 
stand hun.  It  will  be  a  further  gratification  to  the  patriotic 
audience  to  know  that  the  present  thunderer  is  a  fellow-coun- 
tryman, born  at  Dunderbarrack,  among  the  echoes  of  the 
Highlands;  and  that  he  thunders  with  peculiar  emphasis  and 
pompous  enunciation,  in  the  true  style  of  a  Fourth  of  July 
oraton 


dl  227 

In.  addition  to  all  these  additions,  the  manager  has  pro* 
vided  an  entire  new  snowstorm ;  the  very  sight  of  which  will 
be  quite  sufficient  to  draw  a  shawl  over  every  naked  bosom 
in  the  theater ;  the  snow  is  perfectly  fresh,  having  been  manu- 
factured last  August. 

N.B. — The  outside  of  the  theater  has  been  ornamented 
with  a  new  chimney ! ! 


No.    XV.— THURSDAY,    OCTOBER    i,    1807 


SKETCHES    FROM    NATURE 

BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

THE  brisk  northwesters  which  prevailed  not  long  since 
had  a  powerful  effect  in  arresting  the  progress  of  belles, 
beaux,  and  wild  pigeons  in  their  fashionable  northern  tour» 
and  turning  them  back  to  the  more  balmy  region  of  tha 
South.  Among  the  rest,  I  was  encountered,  full  butt,  by  a 
blast  which  set  my  teeth  chattering,  just  as  I  doubled  one  of 
the  frowning  bluffs  of  the  Mohawk  mountains,  in  my  route 
to  Niagara ;  and  facing  about  incontinently,  I  forthwith  scud 
Before  the  wind,  and  a  few  days  since  arrived  at  my  old 
quarters  in  New  York.  My  first  care,  on  returning  from  so 
long  an  absence,  was  to  visit  the  worthy  family  of  the  Cock- 
lofts,  whom  I  found  safe,  burrowed  in  their  country  man- 
sion. On  inquiring  for  my  highly  respected  coadjutor, 
Langstaff,  I  learned  with  great  concern  that  he  had  re- 
lapsed into  one  of  his  eccentric  fits  of  the  spleen,  ever  since 
the  era  of  a  turtle  dinner  given  by  old  Cockloft  to  some  of 
the  neighboring  squires;  wherein  the  old  gentleman  had 
achieved  a  glorious  victory,  in  laying  honest  Launcelot  fairly 
under  the  table.  Langstaff,  although  fond  of  the  social 
board  and  cheerful  glass,  yet  abominates  any  excess;  and 
has  an  invincible  aversion  to  getting  mellow,  considering  it 


JB28  U/orKs  of  U/asl?Ii)$toi) 

a  willful  outrage  on  the  sanctity  of  imperial  mind,  a  sense- 
less abuse  of  the  body,  and  an  unpardonable,  because  a  vol- 
untary, prostration  of  both  mental  and  personal  dignity.  I 
have  heard  him  moralize  on  the  subject,  in  a  style  that  would 
have  done  honor  to  Michael  Cassia  himself;  but  I  believe,  if 
the  truth  were  known,  this  antipathy  rather  arises  from  his 
having,  as  the  phrase  is,  but  a  weak  head,  and  nerves  so  ex- 
tremely sensitive  that  he  is  sure  to  suffer  severely  from  a 
frolic;  and  will  groan  and  make  resolutions  against  it  for 
a  week  afterward.  He  therefore  took  this  waggish  exploit 
of  old  Christopher's,  and  the  consequent  quizzing  which  he 
underwent,  in  high  dudgeon;  had  kept  aloof  from  company 
for  a  fortnight,  and  appeared  to  be  meditating  some  deep 
plan  of  retaliation  upon  his  mischievous  old  crony.  He  had, 
however,  for  the  last  day  or  two  shown  some  symptoms  of 
convalescence :  had  listened,  without  more  than  half  a  dozen 
twitches  of  impatience,  to  one  of  Christopher's  unconscionable 
long  stories ;  and  even  was  seen  to  smile,  for  the  one  hundred 
and  thirtieth  time,  at  a  venerable  joke  originally  borrowed 
from  Joe  Miller :  but  which,  by  dint  of  long  occupancy,  and 
frequent  repetition,  the  old  gentleman  now  firmly  believes 
happened  to  himself  somewhere  in  New  England. 

As  I  am  well  acquainted  with  Launcelot's  haunts,  I  soon 
found  him  out.  He  was  lolling  on  his  favorite  bench,  rudely 
constructed  at  the  foot  of  an  old  tree  which  is  full  of  fantas- 
tical twists,  and  with  its  spreading  branches  forms  a  canopy 
of  luxuriant  foliage.  This  tree  is  a  kind  of  chronicle  of  the 
short  reigns  of  his  uncle  John's  mistresses;  and  its  trunk  is 
sorely  wounded  with  carvings  of  true  lovers'  knots,  hearts, 
darts,  names,  and  inscriptions ! — frail  memorials  of  the  variety 
of  the  fair  dames  who  captivated  the  wandering  fancy  of  that 
old  cavalier  in  the  days  of  his  youthful  romance.  Launcelot 
holds  this  tree  in  particular  regard,  as  he  does  everything  else 
connected  with  the  memory  of  his  good  uncle  John.  He  was 
reclining,  in  one  of  his  usual  brown  studies,  against  its  trunk, 
and  gazing  pensively  upon  the  river  that  glided  just  by,  wash- 
ing the  drooping  branches  of  the  dwarf  willows  that  fringed 


Salma$ui?df  229 

its  bank.  My  appearance  roused  him.  He  grasped  my  hand 
with  his  usual  warmth,  and  with  a  tremulous  but  close  press- 
ure which  spoke  that  his  heart  entered  into  the  salutation. 
After  a  number  of  affectionate  inquiries  and  felicitations, 
such  as  friendship,  not  form,  dictated,  he  seemed  to  relapse 
into  his  former  flow  of  thought,  and  to  resume  the  chain  of 
ideas  my  appearance  had  broken  for  a  moment. 

"I  was  reflecting,"  said  he,  "my  dear  Anthony,  upon 
some  observations  I  made  in  our  last  number;  and  consider- 
ing whether  the  sight  of  objects  once  dear  to  the  affections, 
or  of  scenes  where  we  have  passed  different  happy  periods  of 
early  life,  really  occasions  most  enjoyment  or  most  regret. 
Renewing  our  acquaintance  with  well-known  but  long-sepa- 
rated objects  revives,  it  is  true,  the  recollection  of  former 
pleasures,  and  touches  the  tenderest  feelings  of  the  heart; 
like  the  flavor  of  a  delicious  beverage  will  remain  upon  the 
palate  long  after  the  cup  has  parted  from  the  lips.  But  on 
the  other  hand,  my  friend,  these  same  objects  are  too  apt  to 
awaken  us  to  a  keener  recollection  of  what  we  were  when 
they  erst  delighted  us ;  to  provoke  a  mortifying  and  melan- 
choly contrast  with  what  we  are  at  present.  They  act,  in  a 
manner,  as  milestones  of  existence,  showing  us  how  far  we 
have  traveled  in  the  journey  of  life ;  how  much  of  our  weary 
but  fascinating  pilgrimage  is  accomplished.  I  look  round 
me,  and  my  eye  fondly  recognizes  the  fields  I  once  sported 
over,  the  river  in  which  I  once  swam,  and  the  orchard  I  in- 
trepidly robbed  in  the  halcyon  days  of  boyhood.  The  fields 
are  still  green,  the  river  still  rolls  unaltered  and  undimin- 
ished,  and  the  orchard  is  still  flourishing  and  fruitful ;  it  is  I 
only  am  changed.  The  thoughtless  flow  of  madcap  spirits 
that  nothing  could  depress;  the  elasticity  of  nerve  that  en- 
abled me  to  bound  over  the  field,  to  stem  the  stream,  and 
climb  the  tree;  the  *  sunshine  of  the  breast'  that  beamed  an 
illusive  charm  over  every  object,  and  created  a  paradise 
around  me! — where  are  they?  The  thievish  lapse  of  years 
has  stolen  them  away,  and  left  in  return  nothing  but  gray 
hairs  and  a  repining  spirit."  My  friend  Launcelot  concluded 


230  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)<Jtoi? 

his  harangue  with  sigh,  and  as  I  saw  he  was  still  under  the 
influence  of  a  whole  legion  of  the  blues,  and  just  on  the  point 
of  sinking  into  one  of  his  whimsical  and  unreasonable  fits  of 
melancholy  abstraction,  I  proposed  a  walk.  He  consented, 
and  slipping  his  left  arm  in  mine,  and  waving  in  the  other  a 
gold-headed  thorn  cane,  bequeathed  him  by  his  uncle  John, 
we  slowly  rambled  along  the  margin  of  the  river. 

Langstaff,  though  possessing  great  vivacity  of  temper,  is 
most  wofully  subject  to  these  "thick  coming  fancies";  and 
I  do  not  know  a  man  whose  animal  spirits  do  insult  him  with 
more  jiltings,  and  coquetries,  and  slippery  tricks.  In  these 
moods  he  is  often  visited  by  a  whim-wham  which  he  indulges 
in  common  with  the  Cocklofts.  It  is  that  of  looking  back 
with  regret,  conjuring  up  the  phantoms  of  good  old  times,  and 
decking  them  out  in  imaginary  finery  with  the  spoils  of  his 
fancy;  like  a  good  lady  widow  regretting  the  loss  of  the 
"poor  dear  man,"  for  whom,  while  living,  she  cared  not  a 
rush.  I  have  seen  him  and  Pindar,  and  old  Cockloft,  amuse 
themselves  over  a  bottle  with  their  youthful  days ;  until,  by 
the  time  they  had  become  what  is  termed  merry,  they  were 
the  most  miserable  beings  in  existence.  In  a  similar  humor 
was  Launcelot  at  present,  and  I  knew  the  only  way  was  to 
let  him  moralize  himself  out  of  it. 

Our  ramble  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  a 
personage  of  no  little  importance  at  Cockloft  Hall.  For,  to 
let  my  readers  into  a  family  secret,  friend  Christopher  is  no- 
toriously henpecked  by  an  old  negro,  who  has  whitened  on 
the  place ;  and  is  his  master,  almanac,  and  counselor.  My 
readers,  if  haply  they  have  sojourned  in  the  country  and 
become  conversant  in  rural  manners,  must  have  observed 
that  there  is  scarce  a  little  hamlet  but  has  one  of  these  old 
weather-beaten  wiseacres  of  negroes,  who  ranks  among  the 
great  characters  of  the  place.  He  is  always  resorted  to  as 
an  oracle  to  resolve  any  question  about  the  weather,  fishing, 
shooting,  farming,  and  horse-doctoring;  and  on  such  occa- 
sions will  slouch  his  remnant  of  a  hat  on  one  side,  fold  his 
arms,  roll  his  white  eyes,  and  examine  the  sky,  with  a  look 


Salma$ui?di  231 

as  knowing  as  Peter  Pindar's  magpie  when  peeping  into  a 
marrow-bone.  Such  a  sage  curmudgeon  is  Old  Caesar,  who 
acts  as  friend  Cockloft's  prime  minister  or  grand  vizier;  as- 
sumes, when  abroad,  his  master's  style  and  title — to  wit, 
Squire  Cockloft;  and  is,  in  effect,  absolute  lord  and  ruler  of 
the  soil. 

As  he  passed  us  he  pulled  off  his  hat  with  an  air  of  some- 
thing more  than  respect.  It  partook,  I  thought,  of  affection. 
"There,  now,  is  another  memento  of  the  kind  I  have  been 
noticing,"  said  Launcelot.  "Caesar  was  a  bosom  friend  and 
chosen  playmate  of  Cousin  Pindar  and  myself  when  we  were 
boys.  Never  were  we  so  happy  as  when,  stealing  away  on 
a  holiday  to  the  Hall,  we  ranged  about  the  fields  with  honest 
Caesar.  He  was  particularly  adroit  in  making  our  quail-traps 
and  fishing-rods;  was  always  the  ringleader  in  all  the  schemes 
of  frolicsome  mischief  perpetrated  by  the  urchins  of  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  considered  himself  on  an  equality  with  the  best  of 
us;  and  many  a  hard  battle  have  I  had  with  him  about  a 
division  of  the  spoils  of  an  orchard  or  the  title  to  a  bird's 
nest.  Many  a  summer  evening  do  I  remember  when  hud- 
dled together  on  the  steps  of  the  Hall  door,  Caesar,  with  his 
stories  of  ghosts,  goblins,  and  witches,  would  put  us  all  in  a 
panic,  and  people  every  lane,  and  churchyard,  and  solitary 
wood,  with  imaginary  beings.  In  process  of  time,  he  be- 
came the  constant  attendant  and  Man  Friday  of  Cousin  Pin- 
dar, whenever  he  went  a  sparking  among  the  rosy  country 
girls  of  the  neighboring  farms;  and  brought  up  his  rear  at 
every  rustic  dance,  when  he  would  mingle  in  the  sable  group 
that  always  thronged  the  door  of  merriment;  and  it  was 
enough  to  put  to  the  rout  a  host  of  splenetic  imps  to  see  his 
mouth  gradually  dilate  from  ear  to  ear,  with  pride  and  exulta- 
tion, at  seeing  how  neatly  Master  Pindar  footed  it  over  the 
floor.  Caesar  was  likewise  the  chosen  confidant  and  special 
agent  of  Pindar  in  all  his  love  affairs,  until,  as  his  evil  stars 
would  have  it,  on  being  intrusted  with  the  delivery  of  a 
poetic  billet-doux  to  one  of  his  patron's  sweethearts,  he  took 
an  unlucky  notion  to  send  it  to  his  own  sable  dulcinea;  who, 


232  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ir?$tOQ 

not  being  able  to  read  it,  took  it  to  her  mistress ;  and  so  the 
whole  affair  was  blown.  Pindar  was  universally  roasted, 
and  Csesar  discharged  forever  from  his  confidence. 

"Poor  Csesar! — he  has  now  grown  old,  like  his  young 
masters,  but  he  still  remembers  old  times ;  and  will,  now  and 
then,  remind  me  of  them  as  he  lights  me  to  my  room,  and 
lingers  a  little  while  to  bid  me  a  good-night.  Believe  me, 
my  dear  Evergreen,  the  honest,  simple  old  creature  has  a 
warm  corner  in  my  heart.  I  don't  see,  for  my  part,  why 
a  body  may  not  like  a  negro  as  well  as  a  white  man!" 

By  the  time  these  biographical  anecdotes  were  ended  we 
had  reached  the  stable,  into  which  we  involuntarily  strolled, 
and  found  Csesar  busily  employed  in  rubbing  down  the  horses; 
an  office  he  would  not  intrust  to  anybody  else,  having  con- 
tracted an  affection  for  every  beast  in  the  stable,  from  their 
being  descendants  of  the  old  race  of  animals,  his  youthful  con- 
temporaries. Csesar  was  very  particular  in  giving  us  their 
pedigrees,  together  with  a  panegyric  on  the  swiftness,  bot- 
tom, blood,  and  spirit  of  their  sires.  From  these  he  digressed 
into  a  variety  of  anecdotes,  in  which  Launcelot  bore  a  con- 
spicuous part,  and  on  which  the  old  negro  dwelt  with  all  the 
garrulity  of  age.  Honest  Langstaff  stood  leaning  with  his 
arm  over  the  back  of  his  favorite  steed,  old  Killdeer;  and  I 
could  perceive  he  listened  to  Csesar 's  simple  details  with  that 
fond  attention  with  which  a  feeling  mind  will  hang  over  nar- 
ratives of  boyish  days.  His  eyes  sparkled  with  animation,  a 
glow  of  youthful  fire  stole  across  his  pale  visage;  he  nodded 
with  smiling  approbation  at  every  sentence;  chuckled  at 
every  exploit ;  laughed  heartily  at  the  story  of  his  once  hav- 
ing smoked  out  a  country  singing-school  with  brimstone  and 
asafetida;  and  slipping  a  piece  of  money  into  old  Csesar's 
hand  to  buy  himself  a  new  tobacco-box,  he  seized  me  by  the 
arm  and  hurried  out  of  the  stable  brimful  of  good-nature. 
"  'Tis  a  pestilent  old  rogue  for  talking,  my  dear  fellow," 
cried  he,  "but  you  must  not  find  fault  with  him — the 
creature  means  well."  I  knew  at  the  very  moment  that 
he  made  this  apology  honest  Csesar  could  not  have  given 


Salma^uqdf  233 

him  half  the  satisfaction  had  he  talked  like  a  Cicero  or  a 
Solomon. 

Launcelot  returned  to  the  house  with  me  in  the  best  pos- 
sible humor.  The  whole  family,  who,  in  truth,  love  and 
honor  him  from  their  very  souls,  were  delighted  to  see  the 
sunbeams  once  more  play  in  his  countenance.  Every  one 
seemed  to  vie  who  should  talk  the  most,  tell  the  longest 
stories,  and  be  most  agreeable;  and  "Will  Wizard,  who  had 
accompanied  me  in  my  visit,  declared,  as  he  lighted  his  cigar, 
which  had  gone  out  forty  times  m  the  course  of  one  of  his 
Oriental  tales,  that  he  had  not  passed  so  pleasant  an  evening 
tfince  the  birth-night  ball  of  ihe  beauteous  empress  of  Hay  ti. 


THE  following  essay  was  written  by  my  friend  Langstaff, 
in  one  of  the  paroxysms  of  his  splenetic  complaint;  and,  for 
aught  I  know,  may  have  been  effectual  in  restoring  him  to 
good  humor.  A  mental  discharge  of  the  kind  has  a  remark- 
able tendency  toward  sweetening  the  temper;  and  Launcelot 
is,  at  this  moment,  one  of  the  best-natured  men  in  existence. 

A.  EVERGREEN. 


ON  GREATNESS 

BY    LAUNCELOT    LANGSTAFF,   ESQ. 

WE  have  more  than  once,  in  the  course  of  our  work,  been 
most  jocosely  familiar  with  great  personages;  and,  in  truth, 
treated  them  with  as  little  ceremony,  respect,  and  considera- 
tion, as  if  they  had  been  our  most  particular  friends.  Now, 
we  would  not  suffer  the  mortification  of  having  our  readers 
even  suspect  us  of  an  intimacy  of  the  kind ;  assuring  them 
we  are  extremely  choice  in  our  intimates,  and  uncommonly 
circumspect  in  avoiding  connections  with  all  doubtful  char- 
acters; particularly  pimps,  bailiffs,  lottery-brokers,  chevaliers 
of  industry,  and  great  men.  The  world,  in  general,  is  pretty 


U/orKs  of  U/asl?io$too 

•well  aware  of  what  is  to  be  understood  by  the  former  classes 
of  delinquents ;  but  as  the  latter  has  never,  I  believe,  been 
specifically  defined ;  and  as  we  are  determined  to  instruct  our 
readers  to  the  extent  of  our  abilities,  and  their  limited  com- 
prehension, it  may  not  be  amiss  here  to  let  them  know  what 
we  understand  by  a  great  man. 

First,  therefore,  let  us — editors  and  kings  are  always* 
plural — premise  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  greatness;  one 
conferred  by  Heaven — the  exalted  nobility  of  the  soul;  the 
other,  a  spurious  distinction,  engendered  by  the  mob  and 
lavished  upon  its  favorites.  The  former  of  these  distinctions 
we  have  always  contemplated  with  reverence ;  the  latter,  we 
will  take  this  opportunity  to  strip  naked  before  our  unen- 
lightened readers ;  so  that  if  by  chance  any  of  them  are  held 
in  ignominious  thralldom  by  this  base  circulation  of  false 
coin,  they  may  forthwith  emancipate  themselves  from  such 
inglorious  delusion. 

It  is  a  fictitious  value  given  to  individuals  by  public  ca- 
price, as  bankers  give  an  impression  to  a  worthless  slip  of 
paper ;  thereby  gaining  it  a  currency  for  infinitely  more  than 
its  intrinsic  value.  Every  nation  has  its  peculiar  coin  and 
peculiar  great  men ;  neither  of  which  will,  for  the  most  part, 
pass  current  out  of  the  country  where  they  are  stamped. 
Your  true  mob-created  great  man  is  like  a  note  of  one  of  the 
little  New  England  banks,  and  his  value  depreciates  in  pro- 
portion to  the  distance  from  home.  In  England,  a  great 
man  is  he  who  has  most  ribbons  and  gewgaws  on  his  coat, 
most  horses  to  his  carriage,  most  slaves  in  his  retinue,  or 
most  toad-eaters  at  his  table ;  in  France,  he  who  can  most 
dexterously  flourish  his  heels  above  his  head :  Duport  is  most 
incontestably  the  greatest  man  in  France! — when  the  em- 
peror is  absent.  The  greatest  man  in  China  is  he  who  can 
trace  his  ancestry  up  to  the  moon;  and  in  this  country 
our  great  men  may  generally  hunt  down  their  pedigree  un- 
til it  burrows  in  the  dirt  like  a  rabbit.  To  be  concise,  our 
great  men  are  those  who  are  most  expert  in  crawling  on  all 
fours,  and  have  the  happiest  facility  in  dragging  and  wind- 


235 

ing  themselves  along  in  the  dirt  like  very  reptiles.  This  may 
seem  a  paradox  to  many  of  my  readers,  who,  with  great 
good-nature  be  it  hinted,  are  too  stupid  to  look  beyond  the 
mere  surface  of  our  invaluable  writings ;  and  often  pass  over 
the  knowing  allusion  and  poignant  meaning  that  is  slyly 
couching  beneath.  It  is  for  the  benefit  of  such  helpless  igno- 
rants,  who  have  no  other  creed  but  the  opinion  of  the  mob, 
that  I  shall  trace — as  far  as  it  is  possbile  to  follow  him  in  his 
progress  from  insignificance — the  rise,  progress,  and  comple- 
tion of  a  little  great  man. 

In  a  logocracy,  to  use  the  sage  Mustapha's  phrase,  it 
is  not  absolutely  necessary  to  the  formation  of  a  great  man 
that  he  should  be  either  wise  or  valiant,  upright  or  honorable. 
On  the  contrary,  daily  experience  shows  that  these  qualities 
rather  impede  his  preferment ;  inasmuch  as  they  are  prone  to 
render  him  too  inflexibly  erect,  and  are  directly  at  variance 
with  that  willowy  suppleness  which  enables  a  man  to  wind 
and  twist  through  all  the  nooks  and  turns  and  dark  winding 
passages  that  lead  to  greatness.  The  grand  requisite  for 
climbing  the  rugged  hill  of  popularity — the  summit  of  which 
is  the  seat  of  power — is  to  be  useful.  And  here  once  more, 
for  the  sake  of  our  readers,  who  are,  of  course,  not  so  wise 
as  ourselves,  I  must  explain  what  we  understand  by  useful- 
ness. The  horse,  in  his  native  state,  is  wild,  swift,  impetu- 
ous, full  of  majesty,  and  of  a  most  generous  spirit.  It  is 
then  the  animal  is  noble,  exalted,  and  useless.  But  entrap 
him,  manacle  him,  cudgel  him,  break  down  his  lofty  spirit, 
put  the  curb  into  his  mouth,  the  load  upon  his  back,  and 
reduce  him  into  servile  obedience  to  the  bridle  and  the  lash, 
and  it  is  then  he  becomes  useful.  Your  jackass  is  one  of  the 
most  useful  animals  in  existence.  If  my  readers  do  not  now 
understand  what  I  mean  by  usefulness,  I  give  them  all  up 
for  most  absolute  nincoms. 

To  rise  in  this  country,  a  man  must  first  descend.  The 
aspiring  politician  may  be  compared  to  that  indefatigable 
insect  called  the  tumbler;  pronounced  by  a  distinguished 
personage  to  be  the  only  industrious  animal  in  Virginia,  which 


of 

buries  itself  in  filth,  and  works  ignobly  in  the  dirt,  until  it 
forms  a  little  ball,  which  it  rolls  laboriously  along,  like  Diog- 
enes in  his  tub;  sometimes  head,  sometimes  tail  foremost, 
pilfering  from  every  rut  and  mud-hole,  and  increasing  its 
ball  of  greatness  by  the  contributions  of  the  kennel.  Just  so 
the  candidate  for  greatness.  He  plunges  into  that  mass  of 
obscenity,  the  mob;  labors  in  dirt  and  oblivion,  and  makes 
unto  himself  the  rudiments  of  a  popular  name  from  the 
admiration  and  praises  of  rogues,  ignoramuses,  and  black- 
guards. His  name  once  started,  onward  he  goes  struggling, 
and  puffing,  and  pushing  it  before  him;  collecting  new 
tributes  from  the  dregs  and  offals  of  the  land  as  he  proceeds, 
until  having  gathered  together  a  mighty  mass  of  popularity, 
he  mounts  it  in  triumph ;  is  hoisted  into  office,  and  becomes 
a  great  man  and  a  ruler  in  the  land.  All  this  will  be  clearly 
illustrated  by  a  sketch  of  a  worthy  of  the  kind,  who  sprung 
up  under  my  eye,  and  was  hatched  from  pollution  by  the 
broad  rays  of  popularity,  which,  like  the  sun,  can  "breed 
maggots  in  a  dead  dog." 

Timothy  Dabble  was  a  young  man  of  very  promising 
talents :  for  he  wrote  a  fair  hand,  and  had  thrice  won  the 
silver  medal  at  a  country  academy.  He  was  also  an  orator, 
for  he  talked  with  emphatic  volubility,  and  could  argue  a 
full  hour  without  taking  either  side  or  advancing  a  single 
opinion.  He  had  still  further  requisites  for  eloquence;  for 
he  made  very  handsome  gestures,  had  dimples  in  his  cheeks 
when  he  smibd,  and  enunicated  most  harmoniously  through 
his  nose.  In  jhort,  nature  had  certainly  marked  him  out 
for  a  great  man;  for  though  he  was  not  tall,  yet  he  added  at 
least  half  an  inch  to  his  stature  by  elevating  his  head,  and 
assumed  an  amazing  expression  of  dignity  by  turning  up  his 
nose  and  curling  his  nostrils  in  a  style  of  conscious  superi- 
ority. Convinced  by  these  unequivocal  appearances,  Dab- 
ble's  friends,  in  full  caucus,  one  and  all,  declared  that  he  was 
undoubtedly  born  to  be  a  great  man,  and  it  would  be  his  own 
fault  if  he  were  not  one  Dabble  was  tickled  with  an  opinion 
which  coincided  BO  happily  with  his  own — for  vanity,  hi  a 


Sal/na<$ui)df  237 

confidential  whisper,  had  given  him  the  like  intimation;  and 
he  reverenced  the  judgment  of  his  friends  because  they 
thought  so  highly  of  himself.  Accordingly  he  set  out  with 
determination  to  become  a  great  man  and  to  start  in  the 
a  scrub-race  for  honor  and  renown.  How  to  attain  the  de- 
sired prizes  was,  however,  the  question.  He  knew  by  a 
kind  of  instinctive  feeling,  which  seems  peculiar  to  groveling 
minds,  that  honor,  and  its  better  part — profit,  would  never 
seek  him  out ;  that  they  would  never  knock  at  his  door  and 
crave  admittance ;  but  must  be  courted  and  toiled  after,  and 
earned.  He  therefore  strutted  forth  into  the  highways,  the 
market-places,  and  the  assemblies  of  the  people ;  ranted  like 
a  true  cockerel  orator  about  virtue,  and  patriotism,  and 
liberty,  and  equality,  and  himself.  Full  many  a  political 
wind-mill  did  he  battle  with;  and  full  many  a  time  did  he 
talk  himself  out  of  breath  and  his  hearers  out  of  their  pa- 
tience. But  Dabble  found,  to  his  vast  astonishment,  that 
there  was  not  a  notorious  political  pimp  at  a  ward  meeting 
but  could  out-talk  him ;  and  what  was  still  more  mortifying, 
there  was  not  a  notorious  political  pimp  but  was  more  noticed 
and  caressed  than  himself.  The  reason  was  simple  enough; 
while  he  harangued  about  principles,  the  others  ranted  about 
men;  where  he  reprobated  a  political  error,  they  blasted  a 
political  character.  They  were,  consequently,  the  most  use- 
ful ;  for  the  great  object  of  our  political  disputes  is  not  who 
shall  have  the  honor  of  emancipating  the  community  from  the 
leading  strings  of  delusion,  but  who  shall  have  the  profit  of 
holding  the  strings  and  leading  the  community  by  the  nose. 
Dabble  was  likewise  very  loud  in  his  professions  of  in- 
tegrity, incorruptibility,  and  disinterestedness;  words  which, 
from  being  filtered  and  refined  through  newspapers  and 
election  handbills,  have  lost  their  original  signification;  and 
in  the  political  dictionary  are  synonymous  with  empty 
pockets,  itching  palms,  and  interested  ambition.  He,  in 
addition  to  all  this,  declared  that  he  would  support  none  but 
honest  men ;  but  unluckily  as  but  few  of  these  offered  them- 
selves to  be  supported,  Dabble's  services  were  seldom  re- 


238  U/orKs  of 

quired.  He  pledged  himself  never  to  engage  in  party 
schemes,  or  party  politics,  but  to  stand  up  solely  for  the 
broad  interests  of  his  country.  So  he  stood  alone ;  and  what 
is  the  same  thing,  he  stood  still;  for,  in  this  country,  he 
who  does  not  side  with  either  party  is  like  a  body  in  a 
vacuum  between  two  planets,  and  must  forever  remain 
motionless. 

Dabble  was  immeasurably  surprised  that  a  man  so  honest, 
BO  disinterested,  and  so  sagacious  withal — and  one  too  who 
had  the  good  of  his  country  so  much  at  heart — should  thus 
remain  unnoticed  and  unapplauded.  A  little  worldly  advice, 
whispered  in  his  ear  by  a  shrewd  old  politician,  at  once  ex- 
plained the  whole  mystery.  "He  who  would  become  great," 
said  he,  "must  serve  an  apprenticeship  to  greatness,  and  rise 
by  regular  gradation,  like  the  master  of  a  vessel,  who  com- 
mences byvbeing  scrub  and  cabin-boy.  He  must  fag  in  the 
train  of  great  men,  echo  all  their  sentiments,  become  their 
toad-eater  and  parasite ;  laugh  at  all  their^fokes,  and  above 
all,  endeavor  to  make  them  laugh;  if  you  only  now  and 
then  make  a  man  laugh,  your  fortune  is  made.  Look  but 
about  you,  youngster,  and  you  will  not  see  a  single  little 
great  man  of  the  day,  but  has  his  miserable  herd  of  retainers, 
who  yelp  at  his  heels,  come  at  his  whistle,  worry  whoever  he 
points  his  finger  at,  and  think  themselves  fully  rewarded  by 
sometimes  snapping  up  a  crumb  that  falls  from  the  great 
man's  table.  Talk  of  patriotism  and  virtue,  and  incorrupti- 
bility! Tut,  man!  they  are  the  very  qualities  that  scare 
munificence  and  keep  patronage  at  a  distance.  You  might 
as  well  attempt  to  entice  crows  with  red  rags  and  gun- 
powder. Lay  all  these  scarecrow  virtues  aside,  and  let  this 
be  your  maxim,  that  a  candidate  for  political  eminence  is 
like  a  dried  herring — he  never  becomes  luminous  until  he 
is  corrupt." 

Dabble  caught  with  hungry  avidity  these  congenial  doc- 
trines, and  turned  into  his  predestined  channel  of  action  with 
the  force  and  rapidity  of  a  stream  which  has  for  a  while  been 
restrained  from  its  natural  course.  He  became  what  nature 


§alma$ui?dl  239 

had  fitted  him  to  be.  His  tone  softened  down  from  arrogant 
self-sufficiency  to  the  whine  of  fawning  solicitation.  He 
mingled  in  the  caucuses  of  the  sovereign  people ;  adapted  his 
dress  to  a  similitude  of  dirty  raggedness ;  argued  most  logi- 
cally with  those  who  were  of  his  own  opinion;  and  slan- 
dered, with  all  the  malice  of  impotence,  exalted  characters 
whose  orbit  he  despaired  ever  to  approach — just  as  that 
scoundrel  midnight  thief,  the  owl,  hoots  at  the  blessed  light 
of  the  sun,  whose  glorious  luster  he  dares  never  contemplate. 
He  likewise  applied  himself  to  discharging  faithfully  the 
honorable  duties  of  a  partisan.  He  poached  about  for  pri- 
vate slanders  and  ribald  anecdotes.  He  folded  handbills. 
He  even  wrote  one  or  two  himself,  which  he  carried  about  in 
his  pocket  and  read  to  everybody.  He  became  a  secretary 
at  ward  meetings,  set  his  hand  to  divers  resolutions  of  patri- 
otic import,  and  even  once  went  so  far  as  to  make  a  speech, 
in  which  he  proved  that  patriotism  was  a  virtue ;  the  reign- 
ing bashaw  a  great  man ;  that  this  was  a  free  country,  and 
he  himself  an  arrant  and  incontestable  buzzard ! 

Dabble  was  now  very  frequent  and  devout  in  his  visits  to 
those  temples  of  politics,  popularity,  and  smoke,  the  ward 
porter-houses ;  those  true  dens  of  equality  where  all  ranks, 
ages  and  talents  are  brought  down  to  the  dead  level  of  rude 
familiarity.  'Twas  here  his  talents  expanded,  and  his 
genius  swelled  up  into  its  proper  size;  like  the  loathsome 
toad,  which,  shrinking  from  balmy  airs  and  jocund  sunshine, 
finds  his  congenial  home  in  caves  and  dungeons,  and  there 
nourishes  his  venom  and  bloats  his  deformity.  'Twas  here 
he  reveled  with  the  swinish  multitude  in  their  debauches  on 
patriotism  and  porter ;  and  it  became  an  even  chance  whether 
Dabble  would  turn  out  a  great  man  or  a  great  drunkard. 
But  Dabble  in  all  this  kept  steadily  in  his  eye  the  only  deity 
he  ever  worshiped — his  interest.  Having  by  this  familiarity 
ingratiated  himself  with  the  mob,  he  became  wonderfully 
potent  and  industrious  at  elections;  knew  all  the  dens  and 
cellars  of  profligacy  and  intemperance ;  brought  more  negroes 
to  the  polls,  and  knew  to  a  greater  certainty  where  votes 


240  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii}$toi) 

could  be  bought  for  beer,  than  any  of  his  contemporaries. 
His  exertions  in  the  cause,  his  persevering  industry,  his  de- 
grading compliance,  his  unresisting  humility,  his  steadfast 
dependence,  at  length  caught  the  attention  of  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  party,  who  was  pleased  to  observe  that  Dabble 
was  a  very  useful  fellow  who  would  go  all  lengths.  From 
that  moment  his  fortune  was  made.  He  was  hand  and 
glove  with  orators  and  slang- whangers ;  basked  in  the  sunshine 
of  great  men's  smiles,  and  had  the  honor  sundry  times  of 
shaking  hands  with  dignitaries,  and  drinking  out  of  the 
same  pot  with  them  at  a  porter-house! 

I  will  not  fatigue  myself  with  tracing  this  caterpillar  in 
his  slimy  progress  from  worm  to  butterfly;  suffice  it  that 
Dabble  bowed  and  bowed,  and  fawned,  and  sneaked,  and 
smirked,  and  libeled,  until  one  would  have  thought  perse- 
verance itself  would  have  settled  down  into  despair.  There 
was  no  knowing  how  long  he  might  have  lingered  at  a  dis- 
tance from  his  hopes,  had  he  not  luckily  got  tarred  and 
feathered  for  some  of  his  electioneering  maneuvers.  This 
was  the  making  of  him ! — Let  not  my  readers  stare.  Tar- 
ring and  feathering  here  is  equal  to  pillory  and  cropped  ears 
in  England;  and  either  of  these  kinds  of  martyrdom  will 
insure  a  patriot  the  sympathy  and  support  of  his  faction. 
His  partisans,  for  even  he  had  his  partisans,  took  his  case 
into  consideration.  He  had  been  kicked  and  cuffed,  and 
disgraced,  and  dishonored  in  the  cause.  He  had  licked  the 
dust  at  the  feet  of  the  mob.  He  was  a  faithful  drudge,  slow 
to  anger,  of  invincible  patience,  of  incessant  assiduity — a 
thoroughgoing  tool,  who  could  be  curbed,  and  spurred,  and 
directed  at  pleasure.  In  short,  he  had  all  the  important 
qualifications  for  a  little  great  man,  and  he  was  accordingly 
ushered  into  office  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  party.  The 
leading  men  complimented  his  usefulness,  the  multitude  his 
republican  simplicity,  and  the  slang-whangers  vouched  for 
his  patriotism.  Since  his  elevation  he  has  discovered  indubi- 
table signs  of  having  been  destined  for  a  great  man.  His 
nose  has  acquired  an  additional  elevation  of  several  degrees, 


Salma$ur?d! 

so  that  now  he  appears  to  have  bidden  adieu  to  this  world 
and  to  have  set  his  thoughts  altogether  on  things  above;  and 
he  has  swelled  and  inflated  himself  to  such  a  degree  that 
his  friends  are  under  apprehensions  that  he  will  one  day  or 
other  explode  and  blow  up  like  a  torpedo. 


No.   XVI.— THURSDAY,   OCTOBER    15,    1807 
STYLE,    AT    BALLSTON1 

BY    WILLIAM    WIZARD,    ESQ. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  Evergreen  has  never  been  abroad, 
nor  had  his  understanding  enlightened  or  his  views  enlarged 
by  that  marvelous  sharpener  of  the  wits,  a  salt-water  voyage; 
yet  he  is  tolerably  shrewd  and  correct  in  the  limited  sphere 
of  his  observations,  and  now  and  then  astounds  me  with  a 
right  pithy  remark  which  would  do  no  discredit  even  to 
a  man  who  had  made  the  grand  tour. 

In  several  late  conversations  at  Cockloft  Hall  he  has 
amused  us  exceedingly  by  detailing  sundry  particulars  con- 
cerning that  notorious  slaughter-house  of  time,  Ballston 
Springs;  where  he  spent  a  considerable  part  of  the  last 
summer.  The  following  is  a  summary  of  his  observations. 

Pleasure  has  passed  through  a  variety  of  significations  at 
Ballston.  It  originally  meant  nothing  more  than  a  relief 
from  pain  and  sickness ;  and  the  patient  who  had  journeyed 
many  a  weary  mile  to  the  springs,  with  a  heavy  heart  and 
emaciated  form,  called  it  pleasure  when  he  threw  by  his 
crutches  and  danced  away  from  them  with  renovated  spirits 
and  limbs  jocund  with  vigor.  In  process  of  time  pleasure 
underwent  a  refinement,  and  appeared  in  the  likeness  of  a 
sober,  unceremonious  country-dance,  to  the  flute  of  an  ama- 
teur or  the  three-stringed  fiddle  of  an  itinerant  country 
musician.  Still  everything  bespoke  that  happy  holiday 

*  *  *  K  VOL.  V. 


of 

which  the  spirits  ever  enjoy  when  emancipated  from  the 
shackles  of  formality,  ceremony,  and  modern  politeness. 
Things  went  on  cheerily,  and  Ballston  was  pronounced  a 
charming,  humdrum,  careless  place  of  resort,  where  every 
one  was  at  his  ease,  and  might  follow  unmolested  the  bent 
of  his  humor — provided  his  wife  was  not  there — when,  lo! 
all  on  a  sudden  Style  made  its  baneful  appearance  in  the 
semblance  of  a  gig  and  tandem,  a  pair  of  leather  breeches,  a 
liveried  footman,  and  a  cockney! — Since  that  fatal  era  pleas- 
ure has  taken  an  entire  new  signification,  and  at  present 
means  nothing  but  "style." 

The  worthy,  fashionable,  dashing,  good-for-nothing  peo- 
ple of  every  state,  who  had  rather  suffer  the  martyrdom  of 
a  crowd  than  endure  the  monotony  of  their  own  homes  and 
the  stupid  company  of  their  own  thoughts,  flock  to  the 
Springs;  not  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  society  or  benefit  by 
the  qualities  of  the  waters,  but  to  exhibit  their  equipages 
and  wardrobes,  and  to  excite  the  admiration,  or,  what  is 
much  more  satisfactory,  the  envy  of  their  fashionable  com- 
petitors. This,  of  course,  awakens  a  spirit  of  noble  emula- 
tion between  the  Eastern,  Middle,  and  Southern  States;  and 
every  lady  hereupon  finding  herself  charged  in  a  manner 
with  the  whole  weight  of  her  country's  dignity  and  style, 
dresses  and  dashes  and  sparkles  without  mercy  at  her  com- 
petitors from  other  parts  of  the  Union.  This  kind  of  rival- 
ship  naturally  requires  a  vast  deal  of  preparation  and  pro- 
digious quantities  of  supplies.  A  sober  citizen's  wife  will 
break  half  a  dozen  milliners'  shops,  and  sometimes  starve 
her  family  a  whole  season,  to  enable  herself  to  make  the 
Springs  campaign  in  style.  She  repairs  to  the  seat  of  war 
with  a  mighty  force  of  trunks  and  bandboxes,  like  so  many 
ammunition  chests,  filled  with  caps,  hats,  gowns,  ribbons, 
shawls,  and  all  the  various  artillery  of  fashionable  warfare. 
The  lady  of  a  Southern  planter  will  lay  out  the  whole  annual 
produce  of  ~  rice  plantation  in  silver  and  gold  muslins,  lace 
veils,  and  new  liveries ;  carry  a  hogshead  of  tobacco  on  her 
head,  and  trail  a  bale  of  sea-island  cotton  at  her  heels ,•  while 


Salma<?ui?df  243 

a  lady  of  Boston  or  Salem  will  wrap  herself  up  in  the  net 
proceeds  of  a  cargo  of  whale-oil,  and  tie  on  her  hat  with  a 
quintal  of  codfish. 

The  planters'  ladies,  however,  have  generally  the  advan- 
tage in  this  contest;  for  as  it  is  an  incontestable  fact  that 
whoever  comes  from  the  West  or  East  Indies,  or  Georgia,  or 
the  Carolinas,  or,  in  fact,  any  warm  climate,  is  immensely 
rich,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  a  simple  cit  of  the  North  can 
cope  with  them  in  style.  The  planter,  therefore,  who  drives 
four  horses  abroad  and  a  thousand  negroes  at  home,  and 
who  flourishes  up  to  the  Springs,  followed  by  half  a  score  of 
blackamoors  in  gorgeous  liveries,  is  unquestionably  superior 
to  the  Northern  merchant,  who  plods  on  in  a  carriage  and 
pair;  which,  being  nothing  more  than  is  quite  necessary, 
has  no  claim  whatever  to  style.  He,  however,  has  his  con- 
solation in  feeling  superior  to  the  honest  cit  who  dashes  about 
in  a  simple  gig.  He,  in  return,  sneers  at  the  country  squire 
who  jogs  along  with  his  scrubby,  long-eared  pony  and  saddle- 
bags ;  and  the  squire,  by  way  of  taking  satisfaction,  would 
make  no  scruple  to  run  over  the  unobtrusive  pedestrian, 
were  it  not  that  the  last,  being  the  most  independent  of  the 
whole,  might  chance  to  break  his  head  by  way  of  retort. 

The  great  misfortune  is  that  this  style  is  supported  at  such 
an  expense  as  sometimes  to  encroach  on  the  rights  and  privi- 
leges of  the  pocket,  and  occasion  very  awkward  embarrass- 
ments to  the  tyro  of  fashion.  Among  a  number  of  instances, 
Evergreen  mentions  the  fate  of  a  dashing  blade  from  the 
South,  who  made  his  entre  with  a  tandem  and  two  out-riders, 
by  the  aid  of  which  he  attracted  the  attention  of  all  the 
ladies,  and  caused  a  coolness  between  several  young  couples, 
who,  it  was  thought,  before  his  arrival,  had  a  considerable 
kindness  for  each  other.  In  the  course  of  a  fortnight  his 
tandem  disappeared !  The  class  of  good  folk  who  seem  to 
have  nothing  to  do  in  this  world  but  pry  into  other  people's 
affairs,  began  to  stare !  In  a  little  time  longer  an  outrider 
was  missing!  This  increased  the  alarm,  and  it  was  conse- 
quently whispered  that  he  had  eaten  the  horses  and  drank 


U/orl^s  of 

the  negro. — N.  B.  Southern  gentlemen  are  very  apt  to  do 
this  on  an  emergency. — Serious  apprehensions  were  enter- 
tained about  the  fate  of  the  remaining  servant,  which  were 
soon  verified  by  his  actually  vanishing;  and,  in  "one  little 
month,"  the  dashing  Carolinian  modestly  took  his  departure 
in  the  stage-coach ! — universally  regretted  by  the  friends  who 
had  generously  released  him  from  his  cumbrous  load  of  style. 
Evergreen,  in  the  course  of  his  detail,  gave  very  melan- 
choly accounts  of  an  alarming  famine  which  raged  with 
great  violence  at  the  Springs.  "Whether  this  was  owing  to 
the  incredible  appetites  of  the  company,  or  the  scarcity  which 
prevailed  at  the  inns,  he  did  not  seem  inclined  to  say;  but 
he  declares  that  he  was  for  several  days  in  imminent  danger 
of  starvation,  owing  to  his  being  a  little  too  dilatory  in  his 
attendance  at  the  dinner-table.  He  relates  a  number  of 
"moving  accidents"  which  befell  many  of  the  polite  com- 
pany in  their  zeal  to  get  a  good  seat  at  dinner ;  on  which 
occasion  a  kind  of  scrub-race  always  took  place,  wherein  a 
vast  deal  of  jockeying  and  unfair  play  was  shown,  and  a 
variety  of  squabbles  and  unseemly  altercations  occurred. 
But  when  arrived  at  the  scene  of  action,  it  was  truly  an 
awful  sight  to  behold  the  confusion,  and  to  hear  the  tumult- 
uous uproar  of  voices  crying,  some  for  one  thing  and  some 
for  another,  to  the  tuneful  accompaniment  of  knives  and 
forks,  rattling  with  all  the  energy  of  hungry  impatience. — 
The  feast  of  the  Centaurs  and  the  LapithaB  was  nothing  when 
compared  with  a  dinner  at  the  great  house.  At  one  time  an 
old  gentleman,  whose  natural  irascibility  was  a  little  sharp- 
ened by  the  gout,  had  scalded  his  throat  by  gobbling  down 
a  bowl  of  hot  soup  in  a  vast  hurry,  in  order  to  secure  the  first 
fruits  of  a  roasted  partridge  before  it  was  snapped  up  by 
some  hungry  rival ;  when,  just  as  he  was  whetting  his  knife 
and  fork,  preparatory  for  a  descent  on  the  promised  land,  he 
had  the  mortification  to  see  it  transferred  bodily  to  the  plate 
of  a  squeamish  little  damsel  who  was  taking  the  waters  for 
debility  and  loss  of  appetite.  This  was  too  much  for  the 
patience  of  old  Crusty ;  he  lodged  his  fork  into  the  partridge. 


Salma$ui)df  249 

whipped  it  into  his  dish,  and  cutting  off  a  wing  of  it — "  There, 
miss,  there's  more  than  you  can  eat. — Oons!  what  should 
such  a  little  chalky-faced  puppet  as  you  do  with  a  whole 
partridge!"  At  another  time  a  mighty,  sweet-disposed  old 
dowager,  who  loomed  most  magnificently  at  the  table,  had 
a  sauce-boat  launched  upon  the  capacious  lap  of  a  silver- 
sprigged  muslin  gown  by  the  maneuvering  of  a  little  politic 
Frenchman,  who  was  dexterously  attempting  to  make  a 
lodgment  under  the  covered  way  of  a  chicken-pie.  Human 
nature  could  not  bear  it ! — the  lady  bounced  round,  and  with 
one  box  on  the  ear  drove  the  luckless  wight  to  utter  anni- 
hilation. 

But  these  little  cross  accidents  are  amply  compensated 
by  the  great  variety  of  amusements  which  abound  at  this 
charming  resort  of  beauty  and  fashion.  In  the  morning  the 
company,  each  like  a  jolly  Bacchanalian  with  glass  in  hand, 
sally  forth  to  the  Springs,  where  the  gentlemen  who  wish 
to  make  themselves  agreeable  have  an  opportunity  of  dip- 
ping themselves  into  the  good  opinion  of  the  ladies ;  and  it  is 
truly  delectable  to  see  with  what  grace  and  adroitness  they 
perform  this  ingratiating  feat.  Anthony  says  that  it  is 
peculiarly  amazing  to  behold  the  quantity  of  water  the  ladies 
drink  on  this  occasion  for  the  purpose  of  getting  an  appetite 
for  breakfast.  He  assures  me  he  has  been  present  when  a 
young  lady  of  unparalleled  delicacy  tossed  off  in  the  space  of 
a  minute  or  two  one  and  twenty  tumblers  and  a  wine-glass 
full.  On  my  asking  Anthony  whether  the  solicitude  of  the 
bystanders  was  not  greatly  awakened  as  to  what  might  be 
the  effects  of  this  debauch,  he  replied  that  the  ladies  at  Ball- 
ston  had  become  such  great  sticklers  for  the  doctrine  of 
evaporation  that  no  gentleman  ever  ventured  to  remonstrate 
against  this  excessive  drinking  for  fear  of  bringing  his  philos- 
ophy into  contempt.  The  most  notorious  water-drinkers  in 
particular  were  continually  holding  forth  on  the  surprising 
aptitude  with  which  the  Ball  ston  waters  evaporated;  and 
several  gentlemen  who  had  the  hardihood  to  question  this 
female  philosophy  were  held  in  high  displeasure. 


246  U/or^s  of  U/asljii^toi)  Irufi}$ 

After  breakfast  every  one  chooses  his  amusement.  Some 
take  a  ride  into  the  pine  woods  and  enjoy  the  varied  and 
romantic  scenery  of  burned  trees,  post  and  rail  fences,  pine 
flats,  potato  patches,  and  log  huts.  Others  scramble  up  the 
surrounding  sand-hills,  that  look  like  the  abodes  of  a  gigantic 
race  of  ants;  take  a  peep  at  the  other  sand-hills  beyond 
them;  and  then — come  down  again.  Others,  who  are  ro- 
mantic, and  sundry  young  ladies  insist  upon  being  so  when- 
ever they  visit  the  Springs,  or  go  anywhere  into  the  country, 
stroll  along  the  borders  of  a  little  swampy  brook  that  drags 
itself  along  like  an  Alexandrine,  and  that  so  lazily  as  not  to 
make  a  single  murmur ;  watching  the  little  tadpoles  as  they 
frolic  right  flippantly  in  the  muddy  stream,  and  listening  to 
the  inspiring  melody  of  the  harmonious  frogs  that  croak 
upon  its  borders.  Some  play  at  billiards,  some  play  at  the 
fiddle,  and  some — play  the  fool:  the  latter  being  the  most 
prevalent  amusement  at  Ballston. 

These,  together  with  abundance  of  dancing,  and  a  prodig- 
ious deal  of  sleeping  of  afternoons,  make  up  the  variety  of 
pleasures  at  the  Springs.  A  delicious  life  of  alternate  lassi- 
tude and  fatigue;  of  laborious  dissipation  and  listless  idle- 
ness ;  of  sleepless  nights  and  days  spent  in  that  dozing  in- 
sensibility which  ever  succeeds  them.  Now  and  then,  indeed, 
the  influenza,  the  fever  and  ague,  or  some  such  pale-faced 
intruder,  may  happen  to  throw  a  momentary  damp  on  the 
general  felicity;  but  on  the  whole,  Evergreen  declares  that 
Ballston  wants  only  six  things;  to  wit,  good  air,  good  wine, 
good  living,  good  beds,  good  company,  and  good  humor,  to 
be  the  most  enchanting  place  in  the  world — excepting  Botany 
Bay,  Musquito  Cove,  Dismal  Swamp,  and  the  Black  Hole  at 
Calcutta. 


THE  following  letter  from  the  sage  Mustapha  has  cost  us 
more  trouble  to  decipher  and  render  into  tolerable  English 
than  any  hitherto  published.  It  was  full  of  blots  and  eras- 
ures, particularly  the  latter  part,  which  we  have  no  doubt 


247 

was  penned  in  a  moment  of  great  wrath  and  indignation. 
Mustapha  has  often  a  rambling  mode  of  writing,  and  his 
thoughts  take  such  unaccountable  turns  that  it  is  difficult  to 
tell  one  moment  where  he  will  lead  you  the  next.  This  is 
particularly  obvious  in  the  commencement  of  his  letters, 
which  seldom  bear  much  analogy  to  the  subsequent  parts ;  he 
sets  off  with  a  flourish,  like  a  dramatic  hero—  assumes  an  air 
of  great  pomposity,  and  struts  up  to  his  subject  mounted 
most  loftily  on  stilts.  L.  LANGSTAFF. 

LETTER  FROM   MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB   KEL1 

KHAN, 

TO   ASEM   HACCHEM,    PRINCIPAL,   SLAVE-DRIVER  TO   HIS 
HIGHNESS   THE    BASHAW    OF    TRIPOLI 

AMONG  the  variety  of  principles  by  which  mankind  are 
actuated,  there  is  one,  my  dear  Asem,  which  I  scarcely  know 
whether  to  consider  as  springing  from  grandeur  and  nobility 
of  mind  or  from  a  refined  species  of  vanity  and  egotism.  It 
is  that  singular,  although  almost  universal,  desire  of  living 
in  the  memory  of  posterity;  of  occupying  a  share  of  the 
world's  attention  when  we  shall  long  since  have  ceased  to  be 
susceptible  either  of  its  praise  or  censure.  Most  of  the  pas- 
sions of  the  mind  are  bounded  by  the  grave.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  an  anxious  hope  or  trembling  fear  will  venture  be- 
yond the  clouds  and  darkness  that  rest  upon  our  mortal 
horizon,  and  expatiate  in  boundless  futurity;  but  it  is  only 
this  active  love  of  fame  which  steadily  contemplates  its 
fruition  in  the  applause  or  gratitude  of  future  ages.  Indig« 
nant  at  the  narrow  limits  which  circumscribe  existence,  am- 
bition is  forever  struggling  to  soar  beyond  them ;  to  triumph 
over  space  and  time,  and  to  bear  a  name,  at  least,  above  tho 
inevitable  oblivion  in  which  everything  else  that  concerns  us 
must  be  involved.  It  is  this,  my  friend,  which  prompts  the 
patriot  to  his  most  heroic  achievements ;  which  inspires  the 
gublimest  strains  of  the  poet,  and  breathes  ethereal  fire  infci 
the  productions  of  the  painter  and  the  statuary,, 


of 

For  this  the  monarch  rears  the  lofty  column ;  the  laureled 
conqueror  claims  the  triumphal  arch ;  while  the  obscure  in- 
dividual, who  moved  in  a  humbler  sphere,  asks  but  a  plain 
and  simple  stone  to  mark  his  grave  and  bear  to  the  next  gen- 
eration this  important  truth,  that  he  was  born,  died — and  was 
buried.  It  was  this  passion  which  once  erected  the  vast 
Nmnidian  piles  whose  ruins  we  have  so  often  regarded  with 
wonder,  as  the  shades  of  evening — fit  emblems  of  oblivion — 
gradually  stole  over  and  enveloped  them  in  darkness.  It 
was  this  which  gave  being  to  those  sublime  monuments  of 
Saracen  magnificence,  which  nod  in  mouldering  desolation, 
as  the  blast  sweeps  over  our  deserted  plains.  How  futile  are 
all  our  efforts  to  evade  the  obliterating  hand  of  time !  As  I 
traversed  the  dreary  wastes  of  Egypt,  on  my  journey  to 
Grand  Cairo,  I  stopped  my  camel  for  a  while  and  contem- 
plated, in  awful  admiration,  the  stupendous  pyramids.  An 
appalling  silence  prevailed  around;  such  as  reigns  in  the 
wilderness  when  the  tempest  is  hushed  and  the  beasts  of  prey 
have  retired  to  their  dens.  The  myriads  that  had  once  been 
employed  in  rearing  these  lofty  mementos  of  human  vanity, 
whose  busy  hum  once  enlivened  the  solitude  of  the  desert — 
had  all  been  swept  from  the  earth  by  the  irresistible  arm  of 
death — all  were  mingled  with  their  native  dust;  all  were  for- 
gotten! Even  the  mighty  names  which  these  sepulchers 
were  designed  to  perpetuate  had  long  since  faded  from  re- 
membrance; history  and  tradition  afforded  but  vague  con- 
jectures, and  the  pyramids  imparted  a  humiliating  lesson  to 
the  candidate  for  immortality. — Alas  I  alas!  said  I  to  my- 
self, how  mutable  are  the  foundations  on  which  our  proudest 
hopes  of  future  fame  are  reposed !  He  who  imagines  he  has 
secured  to  himself  the  meed  of  deathless  renown,  indulges 
in  deluding  visions,  which  only  bespeak  the  vanity  of  the 
dreamer.  The  storied  obelisk  —  the  triumphal  arch  —  the 
swelling  dome,  shall  crumble  into  dust,  and  the  names  they 
would  preserve  from  oblivion  shall  often  pass  away  before 
their  own  duration  is  accomplished. 

Yet  this  passion  for  fame,  however  ridiculous  in  the  eye 


of  the  philosopher,  deserves  respect  and  consideration,  from 
having  been  the  source  of  so  many  illustrious  actions;  and 
hence  it  has  been  the  practice  in  all  enlightened  governments 
to  perpetuate,  ry  monuments,  the  memory  of  great  men,  as  a 
testimony  of  respect  for  the  illustrious  dead,  and  to  awaken 
in  the  bosoms  of  posterity  an  emulation  to  merit  the  same 
honorable  distinction.  The  people  of  the  American  logoc* 
racy,  who  pride  themselves  upon  improving  on  every  pre- 
cept or  example  of  ancient  or  modern  governments,  havt 
discovered  a  new  mode  of  exciting  this  love  of  glory ;  a  mod* 
by  which  they  do  honor  to  their  great  men,  even  hi  their 
lifetime ! 

Thou  must  have  observed  by  this  time  that  they  manage 
everything  in  •*  manner  peculiar  to  themselves ;  and  doubtless 
in  the  best  possible  manner,  seeing  they  have  denominated 
themselves  "the  most  enlightened  people  under  the  sun." 
Thou  wilt  therefore,  perhaps,  be  curious  to  know  how  they 
contrive  to  honor  the  name  of  a  living  patriot,  and  what  un- 
heard-of monument  they  erect  in  memory  of  his  achieve- 
ments.— By  the  fiery  beard  of  the  mighty  Barbarossa,  but  I 
can  scarcely  preserve  the  sobriety  of  a  true  disciple  of  Ma- 
homet while  I  tell  thee ! — Wilt  thou  not  smile,  oh  Mussulman 
of  invincible  gravity,  to  learn  that  they  honor  their  great 
men  by  eating,  and  that  the  only  trophy  erected  to  their 
exploits  is  a  public  dinner!  But,  trust  me,  Asem,  even  in 
this  measure,  whimsical  as  it  may  seem,  the  philosophic  and 
considerate  spirit  of  this  people  is  admirably  displayed. 
Wisely  concluding  that  when  the  hero  is  dead  he  becomes 
insensible  to  the  voice  of  fame,  the  song  of  adulation  or  the 
splendid  trophy,  they  have  determined  that  he  shall  enjoy 
his  quantum  of  celebrity  while  living,  and  revel  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  a  nine-days'  immortality.  The  barbarous 
nations  of  antiquity  immolated  human  victims  to  the  mem- 
ory of  their  lamented  dead,  but  the  enlightened  AmericanB 
offer  up  whole  hecatombs  of  geese  and  calves,  and  oceans  o ' 
wine,  in  honor  of  the  illustrious  living ;  and  the  patriot  has 
the  felicity  of  hearing  from  every  quarter  the  vast  exploits 


250  U/or^s  of  U/as!?io$toij 

in  gluttony  and  reveling  that  have  been  celebrated  to  the" 
glory  of  his  name. 

No  sooner  does  a  citizen  signalize  himself  in  a  conspicuous 
manner  in  the  service  of  his  country  than  all  the  gormand- 
izers assemble  and  discharge  the  national  debt  of  gratitude — 
by  giving  him  a  dinner.  Not  that  he  really  receives  all  the 
luxuries  provided  on  this  occasion.  No,  my  friend,  it  is  ten 
chances  to  one  that  the  great  man  does  not  taste  a  morsel 
from  the  table,  and  is,  perhaps,  five  hundred  miles  distant ; 
and,  to  let  thee  into  a  melancholy  fact,  a  patriot  under  this 
economic  government  may  be  often  in  want  of  a  dinner 
while  dozens  are  devoured  in  his  praise.  Neither  are  these 
repasts  spread  out  for  the  hungry  and  necessitous,  who  might 
otherwise  be  filled  with  food  and  gladness,  rii-1  inspired  to 
shout  forth  the  illustrious  name  which  had  been  the  means 
of  their  enjoyment.  Far  from  this,  Asem;  it  is  the  rich  only 
who  indulge  in  the  banquet.  Those  who  pay  for  the  dainties 
are  alone  privileged  to  enjoy  them;  so  that,  while  opening 
their  purses  in  honor  of  the  patriot,  they  at  the  same  time 
fulfill  a  great  maxim,  which  in  this  country  comprehends  all 
the  rules  of  prudence  and  all  the  duties  a  man  owes  to  him- 
eelf ;  namely,  getting  the  worth  of  their  money. 

In  process  of  time  this  mode  of  testifying  public  applause 
has  been  found  so  marvelously  agreeable  that  they  extend  it 
to  events  as  well  as  characters,  and  eat  in  triumph  at  the 
news  of  a  treaty;  at  the  anniversary  of  any  grand  national 
era,  or  at  the  gaining  of  that  splendid  victory  of  the  tongue — 
an  election.  Nay,  so  far  do  they  carry  it,  that  certain  days 
are  set  apart  when  the  guzzlers,  the  gormandizers,  and  the 
wine-bibbers  meet  together  to  celebrate  a  grand  indigestion, 
in  memory  of  some  great  event ;  and  every  man  in  the  zeal 
of  patriotism  gets  devoutly  drunk — "as  the  act  directs." — 
Then,  my  friend,  mayest  thou  behold  the  sublime  spectacle 
of  love  of  country  elevating  itself  from  a  sentiment  into  an 
appetite,  whetted  to  the  quick  with  the  cheering  prospect 
of  tables  loaded  with  the  fat  things  of  the  land.  On  this 
occasion  every  man  is  anxious  to  fall  to  work,  cram  himself 


Salma$ui?di 

in  honor  of  the  day,  and  risk  a  surfeit  in  the  glorious  cause. 
Some,  I  have  been  told,  actually  fast  for  four  and  twenty 
hours  preceding,  that  they  may  be  enabled  to  do  greatei 
honor  to  the  feast ;  and  certainly,  if  eating  and  drinking  are 
patriotic  rites,  he  who  eats  and  drinks  most,  and  proves  him- 
self the  greatest  glutton,  is,  undoubtedly,  the  most  distin- 
guished patriot.  Such,  at  any  rate,  seems  to  be  the  opinion 
here ;  and  they  act  up  to  it  so  rigidly  that  by  the  time  it  is 
dark  every  kennel  in  the  neighborhood  teems  with  illustrious 
members  of  the  sovereign  people,  wallowing  hi  their  con- 
genial element  of  mud  and  mire. 

These  patriotic  feasts,  or  rather  national  monuments,  are 
patronized  and  promoted  by  certain  inferior  cadis  called  Al- 
dermen, who  are  commonly  complimented  with  their  direc- 
tion. These  dignitaries,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  are  generally 
appointed  on  account  of  their  great  talents  for  eating,  a  quali- 
fication peculiarly  necessary  in  the  discharge  of  their  official 
duties.  They  hold  frequent  meetings  at  taverns  and  hotels, 
where  they  enter  into  solemn  consultations  for  the  benefit  of 
lobsters  and  turtles ;  establish  wholesome  regulations  for  the 
safety  and  preservation  of  fish  and  wild-fowl;  appoint  the 
seasons  most  proper  for  eating  oysters ;  inquire  into  the  econ 
omy  of  taverns,  the  characters  of  publicans,  and  the  abilities 
of  their  cooks ;  and  discuss,  most  learnedly,  the  merits  of  a 
bowl  of  soup,  a  chicken-pie,  or  a  haunch  of  venison:  in 
a  word,  the  alderman  has  absolute  control  in  all  matters 
of  eating,  and  superintends  the  whole  police — of  the  belly. 
Having,  in  the  prosecution  of  their  important  office,  signal- 
ized themselves  at  so  many  public  festivals ;  having  gorged 
so  often  on  patriotism  and  pudding,  and  entombed  so  many 
great  names  in  their  extensive  maws,  thou  wilt  easily  con- 
ceive that  they  wax  portly  apace,  that  they  fatten  on  the 
fame  of  mighty  men,  and  that  their  rotundity,  like  the 
rivers,  the  lakes,  and  the  mountains  of  their  country,  must 
be  on  a  great  scale!  Even  so,  my  friend;  and  when  I  some- 
times see  a  portly  alderman  puffing  along,  and  swelling  as  if 
he  had  the  world  under  his  waistcoat,  I  cannot  help  looking 


252  U/or^s  of 

upon  him  as  a  walking  monument,  and  am  often  ready  to 
exclaim,  "Tell  me,  thou  majestic  mortal,  thou  breathing 
catacomb!  to  what  illustrious  character,  what  mighty  event, 
does  that  capacious  carcass  of  thine  bear  testimony?" 

But  though  the  enlightened  citizens  of  this  logocracy  eat 
in  honor  of  their  friends,  yet  they  drink  destruction  to  their 
enemies. — Yea,  Asem,  woe  unto  those  who  are  doomed  to 
undergo  the  public  vengeance  at  a  public  dinner.  No  sooner 
are  the  viands  removed  than  they  prepare  for  merciless  and 
exterminating  hostilities.  They  drink  the  intoxicating  juice 
of  the  grape  out  of  little  glass  cups,  and  over  each  draught 
pronounce  a  short  sentence  or  prayer;  not  such  a  prayer  as 
thy  virtuous  heart  would  dictate,  thy  pious  lips  give  utter- 
ance to,  my  good  Asem;  not  a  tribute  of  thanks  to  all  bounti- 
ful Allah,  nor  a  humble  supplication  for  His  blessing  on  the 
draught.  No,  my  friend,  it  is  merely  a  toast,  that  is  to  say, 
a  fulsome  tribute  of  flattery  to  their  demagogues;  a  labored 
sally  of  affected  sentiment  or  national  egotism ;  or,  what  is 
more  despicable,  a  malediction  on  their  enemies,  an  empty 
threat  of  vengeance,  or  a  petition  for  their  destruction;  for 
toasts,  thou  must  know,  are  another  kind  of  missive  weapon 
in  a  logocracy,  and  are  leveled  from  afar,  like  the  annoying 
arrows  of  the  Tartars. 

Oh,  Asem !  couldst  thou  but  witness  one  of  these  patriotic, 
these  monumental  dinners;  how  furiously  the  flame  of  patri- 
otism blazes  forth ;  how  suddenly  they  vanquish  armies,  sub- 
jugate whole  countries,  and  exterminate  nations  in  a  bumper, 
thou  wouldst  more  than  ever  admire  the  force  of  that  omnipo- 
tent weapon,  the  tongue.  At  these  moments  every  coward 
becomes  a  hero,  every  ragamuffin  an  invincible  warrior;  and 
the  most  zealous  votaries  of  peace  and  quiet  forget,  for  a 
while,  their  cherished  maxims  and  join  in  the  furious  attack. 
Toast  succeeds  toast.  Kings,  emperors,  bashaws,  are  like 
chaff  before  the  tempest;  the  inspired  patriot  vanquishes 
fleets  with  a  single  gunboat,  and  swallows  down  navies  at 
a  draught,  until,  overpowered  with  victory  and  wine,  he 
sinks  upon  the  field  of  battle— dead  drunk  in  his  country's 


253 

cause.  Sword  of  the  puissant  Khalid!  what  a  display  of 
valor  is  here !  The  sons  of  Afric  are  hardy,  brave,  and  en- 
terprising, but  they  can  achieve  nothing  like  this. 

Happy  would  it  be  if  this  mania  for  toasting  extended  no 
further  than  to  the  expression  of  national  resentment.  Though 
we  might  smile  at  the  impotent  vaporing  and  windy  hyper- 
bole by  which  it  is  distinguished,  yet  we  would  excuse  it,  as 
the  unguarded  overflowings  of  a  heart  glowing  with  national 
injuries,  and  indignant  at  the  insults  offered  to  its  country. 
But  alas,  my  friend,  private  resentment,  individual  hatred, 
and  the  illiberal  spirit  of  party,  are  let  loose  on  these  festive 
occasions.  Even  the  names  of  individuals,  of  unoffending 
fellow-citizens,  are  sometimes  dragged  forth  to  undergo  the 
slanders  and  execrations  of  a  distempered  herd  of  revelers.* 
— Head  of  Mahomet !  how  vindictive,  how  insatiably  vindic- 
tive must  be  that  spirit  which  can  drug  the  mantling  bowl 
with  gall  and  bitterness,  and  indulge  an  angry  passion  in  the 
moment  of  rejoicing!  "Wine,"  says  their  poet,  "is  like  sun- 
shine to  the  heart,  which  under  its  generous  influence  ex- 
pands with  good- will  and  becomes  the  very  temple  of  philan- 
thropy." Strange  that  in  a  temple  consecrated  to  such  a 
divinity  there  should  remain  a  secret  corner,  polluted  by  the 
lurkings  of  malice  and  revenge;  strange  that  in  the  full  flow 
of  social  enjoyment  these  votaries  of  pleasure  can  turn  aside 
to  call  down  curses  on  the  head  of  a  fellow-creature.  Des- 
picable souls!  ye  are  unworthy  of  being  citizens  of  this  "most 


*  NOTE,  BY  WILLIAM  WIZARD,  ESQ. 

It  would  seem  that  in  this  sentence  the  sage  Mustapha  had  refer- 
ence to  a  patriotic  dinner,  celebrated  last  fourth  of  July,  by  some 
gentlemen  of  Baltimore,  when  they  righteously  drank  perdition  to  an 
unoffending  individual,  and  really  thought  "they  had  done  the  State 
some  service."  This  amiable  custom  of  "eating  and  drinking  damna- 
tion" to  others  is  not  confined  to  any  party.  For  a  month  or  two  after 
the  fourth  of  Jxily,  the  different  newspapers  file  off  their  columns  of 
patriotic  toasts  against  each  other,  and  take  a  pride  in  showing  how 
brilliantly  their  partisans  can  blackguard  public  characters  in  their 
cups — "they  do  but  jest — poison;in  jest,"  as  Hamlet  says. 


254  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii>$toi7 

enlightened  country  under  the  sun."  Rather  herd  with  the 
murderous  savages  who  prowl  the  mountains  of  Tibesti ;  who 
stain  their  midnight  orgies  with  the  blood  of  the  innocent 
wanderer,  and  drink  their  infernal  potations  from  the  skulls 
of  the  victims  they  have  massacred. 

And  yet,  trust  me,  Asem,  this  spirit  of  vindictive  coward- 
ice is  not  owing  to  any  inherent  depravity  of  soul ;  for,  on 
other  occasions,  I  have  had  ample  proof  that  this  nation  is 
mild  and  merciful,  brave  and  magnanimous.  Neither  is  it 
owing  to  any  defect  in  their  political  or  religious  precepts. 
The  principles  inculcated  by  their  rulers,  on  all  occasions, 
breathe  a  spirit  of  universal  philanthropy ;  and  as  to  their 
religion,  much  as  I  am  devoted  to  the  Koran  of  our  divine 
prophet,  still  I  cannot  but  acknowledge  with  admiration  the 
mild  forbearance,  the  amiable  benevolence,  the  sublime  moral- 
ity bequeathed  them  by  the  founder  of  their  faith.  Thou  re- 
memberest  the  doctrines  of  the  mild  Nazarine,  who  preached 
peace  and  good-will  to  all  mankind ;  who,  when  he  was  re- 
viled, reviled  not  again ;  who  blessed  those  who  cursed  him, 
and  prayed  for  those  who  despitefully  used  and  persecuted 
him !  What  then  can  give  rise  to  this  uncharitable,  this  in- 
human custom  among  the  disciples  of  a  master  so  gentle  and 
forgiving? — It  is  that  fiend  politics,  Asem — that  baneful 
fiend,  which  bewildereth  every  brain,  and  poisons  every 
social  feeling;  which  intrudes  itself  at  the  festive  banquet, 
and,  like  the  detestable  harpy,  pollutes  the  very  viands  of  the 
table;  which  contaminates  the  refreshing  draught  while  it  i* 
inhaled;  which  prompts  the  cowardly  assassin  to  lanch  his 
poisoned  arrows  from  behind  the  social  board;  and  which 
renders  the  bottle,  that  boasted  promoter  of  good  fellowship 
and  hilarity,  an  infernal  engine,  charged  with  direful  com- 
bustion. 

Oh,  Asem!  Asem!  how  does  my  heart  sicken  when  I 
contemplate  these  cowardly  barbarities?  Let  me,  therefore, 
if  possible,  withdraw  my  attention  from  them  forever.  My 
feelings  have  borne  me  from  my  subject ;  and  from  the  monu- 
ments of  ancient  greatness  I  have  wandered  to  those  of  mod- 


§alma$ui?cfl  255 

em  degradation.  My  warmest  wishes  remain  with  thee, 
thou  most  illustrious  of  slave  drivers;  mayest  thou  ever  be 
sensible  of  the  mercies  of  our  great  prophet,  who,  in  compas- 
sion to  human  imbecility,  has  prohibited  his  disciples  from 
the  use  of  the  deluding  beverage  of  the  grape ;  that  enemy 
to  reason — that  promoter  of  defamation — that  auxiliary  of 
politics. 

Ever  thine,  MUSTAPHA. 


No.  XVII.— WEDNESDAY,  NOV.  n,  1807 


AUTUMN   REFLECTIONS 

BY   LAUNCELOT    LANGSTAFF,   ESQ. 

WHEN  a  man  is  quietly  journeying  downward  into  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  departed  youth,  and  begins  to  con- 
template, in  a  shortened  perspective,  the  end  of  his  pilgrim- 
age, he  becomes  more  solicitous  than  ever  that  the  remainder 
of  his  wayfaring  should  be  smooth  and  pleasant ;  and  the 
evening  of  his  life,  like  the  evening  of  a  summer's  day,  fade 
away  in  mild  uninterrupted  serenity.  If  haply  his  heart  has 
escaped  uninjured  through  the  dangers  of  a  seductive  world, 
it  may  then  administer  to  the  purest  of  his  felicities,  and  its 
chords  vibrate  more  musically  for  the  trials  they  have  sus- 
tained ;  like  the  viol,  which  yields  a  melody  sweet  in  propor- 
tion to  its  age. 

To  a  mind  thus  temperately  harmonzied,  thus  matured 
and  mellowed  by  a  long  lapse  of  years,  there  is  something 
truly  congenial  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  our  early  autumn 
amid  the  tranquillities  of  the  country.  There  is  a  sober  and 
chastened  air  of  gayety  diffused  over  the  face  of  nature, 
peculiarly  interesting  to  an  old  man ;  and  when  he  views  the 
surrounding  landscape  withering  under  his  eye,  it  seems  as 


366  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii?^tor> 

if  he  and  nature  were  taking  a  last  farewell  of  each  other, 
and  parting  with  a  melancholy  smile;  like  a  couple  of  old 
friends,  who,  having  sported  away  the  spring  and  summer  of 
life  together,  part  at  the  approach  of  winter  with  a  kind 
of  prophetic  fear  that  they  are  never  to  meet  again. 

It  is  either  my  good  fortune  or  mishap  to  be  keenly  sus- 
ceptible to  the  influence  of  the  atmosphere ;  and  I  can  feel  in 
the  morning,  before  I  open  my  window,  whether  the  wind  is 
easterly.  It  will  not,  therefore,  I  presume,  be  considered  an 
extravagant  instance  of  vainglory  when  I  assert  that  there 
are  few  men  who  can  discriminate  more  accurately  in  the 
different  varieties  of  damps,  fogs,  Scotch  mists,  and  northeast 
storms,  than  myself.  To  the  great  discredit  of  my  philosophy 
I  confess  I  seldom  fail  to  anathematize  and  excommunicate 
the  weather  when  it  sports  too  rudely  with  my  sensitive  sys- 
tem ;  but  then  I  always  endeavor  to  atone  therefor,  by  eulo- 
gizing it  when  deserving  of  approbation.  And  as  most  of 
my  readers,  simple  folks!  make  but  one  distinction — to  wit, 
rain  and  sunshine — living  in  most  honest  ignorance  of  the 
various  nice  shades  which  distinguish  one  fine  day  from  an- 
other, I  take  the  trouble,  from  time  to  time,  of  letting  them 
into  some  of  the  secrets  of  nature ;  so  will  they  be  the  better 
enabled  to  enjoy  her  beauties  with  the  zest  of  connoisseurs, 
and  derive  at  least  as  much  information  from  my  pages  as 
from  the  weather-wise  lore  of  the  almanac. 

Much  of  my  recreation,  since  I  retreated  to  the  Hall,  has 
consisted  in  making  little  excursions  through  the  neighbor- 
hood; which  abounds  in  the  variety  of  wild,  romantic,  and 
luxuriant  landscape  that  generally  characterizes  the  scenery 
in  the  vicinity  of  our  rivers.  There  is  not  an  eminence 
within  a  circuit  of  many  miles  but  commands  an  extensive 
range  of  diversified  and  enchanting  prospect. 

Often  have  I  rambled  to  the  summit  of  some  favorite  hill ; 
and  thence,  with  feelings  sweetly  tranquil  as  the  lucid  ex- 
panse of  the  heavens  that  canopied  me,  have  noted  the  slow 
and  almost  imperceptible  changes  that  mark  the  waning  year. 
There  are  many  features  peculiar  to  our  autumn,  and  which 


257 

give  it  an  individual  character.  The  "  green  and  yellow 
melancholy"  that  first  steals  over  the  landscape;  the  mild 
and  steady  serenity  of  the  weather,  and  the  transparent 
purity  of  the  atmosphere,  speak,  not  merely  to  the  senses, 
but  the  heart;  it  is  the  season  of  liberal  emotions.  To  this 
succeeds  fantastic  gayety,  a  motley  dress,  which  the  woods 
assume,  where  green  and  yellow,  orange,  purple,  crimson, 
and  scarlet,  are  whimsically  blended  together.  A  sickly 
splendor  this!— like  the  wild  and  broken-hearted  gayety  that 
sometimes  precedes  dissolution;  or  that  childish  sportive- 
ness  of  superannuated  age,  proceeding,  not  from  a  vigorous 
flow  of  animal  spirits,  but  from  the  decay  and  imbecility  of 
the  mind.  We  might,  perhaps,  be  deceived  by  this  gaudy 
garb  of  nature,  were  it  not  for  the  rustling  of  the  falling  leaf, 
which,  breaking  on  the  stillness  of  the  scene,  seems  to  an- 
nounce, in  prophetic  whispers,  the  dreary  winter  that  is  ap- 
proaching. When  I  have  sometimes  seen  a  thrifty  youngt 
oak  changing  its  hue  of  sturdy  vigor  for  a  bright,  but  tran- 
sient, glow  of  red,  it  has  recalled  to  my  mind  the  treacher- 
ous bloom  that  once  mantled  the  cheek  of  a  friend  who  is 
now  no  more ;  and  which,  while  it  seemed  to  promise  a  long 
life  of  jocund  spirits,  was  the  sure  precursor  of  premature 
decay.  In  a  little  while  and  this  ostentatious  foliage  disap- 
pears ;  the  close  of  autumn  leaves  but  one  wide  expanse  of 
dusky  brown ;  save  where  some  rivulet  steals  along,  bordered 
with  little  strips  of  green  grass ;  the  woodland  echoes  no  more 
to  the  carols  of  the  feathered  tribes  that  sported  in  the  leafy 
covert,  and  its  solitude  and  silence  is  uninterrupted,  except 
by  the  plaintive  whistle  of  the  quail,  the  barking  of  the  squir- 
rel, or  the  still  more  melancholy  wintry  wind,  which,  rush- 
ing and  swelling  through  the  hollows  of  the  mountains,  sighs 
through  the  leafless  branches  of  the  grove,  and  seems  to 
mourn  the  desolation  of  the  year. 

To  one  who,  like  myself,  is  fond  of  drawing  comparisons 
between  the  different  divisions  of  life,  and  those  of  the  sea- 
sons, there  will  appear  a  striking  analogy  which  connects 
the  feelings  of  the  aged  with  the  decline  of  the  year.  Often 


358  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ir)$toi) 

as  I  contemplate  the  mild,  uniform,  and  genial  luster  with 
which  the  sun  cheers  and  invigorates  us  in  the  month  of 
October,  and  the  almost  imperceptible  haze  which,  without 
obscuring,  tempers  all  the  asperities  of  the  landscape,  and 
gives  to  every  object  a  character  of  stillness  and  repose,  I 
cannot  help  comparing  it  with  that  portion  of  existence,  when 
the  spring  of  youthful  hope,  and  the  summer  of  the  passions 
having  gone  by,  reason  assumes  an  undisputed  sway,  and 
lights  us  on  with  bright  but  undazzling  luster  adown  the  hill 
of  life.  There  is  a  full  and  mature  luxuriance  in  the  fields 
that  fills  the  bosom  with  generous  and  disinterested  content. 
It  is  not  the  thoughtless  extravagance  of  spring,  prodigal 
only  in  blossoms,  nor  the  languid  voluptuousness  of  summer, 
feverish  in  its  enjoyments,  and  teeming  only  with  immature 
abundance ;  it  is  that  certain  fruition  of  the  labors  of  the  past 
— that  prospect  of  comfortable  realities,  which  those  will  be 
sure  to  enjoy  who  have  improved  the  bounteous  smiles  of 
Heaven,  nor  wasted  away  their  spring  and  summer  in  empty 
trifling  or  criminal  indulgence. 

Cousin  Pindar,  who  is  my  constant  companion  in  these 
expeditions,  and  who  still  possesses  much  of  the  fire  and 
energy  of  youthful  sentiment,  and  a  buxom  hilarity  of  the 
spirits,  often,  indeed,  draws  me  from  these  half -melancholy 
reveries,  and  makes  me  feel  young  again  by  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  he  contemplates  and  the  animation  with  which 
he  eulogizes  the  beauties  of  nature  displayed  before  him. 
His  enthusiastic  disposition  never  allows  him  to  enjoy  things 
by  halves,  and  his  feelings  are  continually  breaking  out  in 
notes  of  admiration  and  ejaculations  that  sober  reason  might 
perhaps  deem  extravagant.  But  for  iny  part,  when  I  see  a 
hale,  hearty  old  man,  who  has  jostled  through  the  rough 
path  of  the  world,  without  having  worn  away  the  fine  edge 
of  his  feelings,  or  blunted  his  sensibility  to  natural  and  moral 
beauty,  I  compare  him  to  the  evergreen  of  the  forest,  whose 
colors,  instead  of  fading  at  the  approach  of  winter,  seem  to 
assume  additional  luster  when  contrasted  with  the  surround- 
ing desolation.  Such  a  man  is  my  friend  Pindar.  Yet  some- 


5alma<$ur)di  259 

times,  and  particularly  at  the  approach  of  evening,  even  he 
will  fall  in  with  my  humor ;  but  he  soon  recovers  his  natural 
tone  of  spirits;  and,  mounting  on  the  elasticity  of  his  mind, 
like  Ganymede  on  the  eagle's  wing,  he  soars  to  the  ethereal 
regions  of  sunshine  and  fancy. 

One  afternoon  we  had  strolled  to  the  top  of  a  high  hill  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Hall,  which  commands  an  almost 
boundless  prospect ;  and  as  the  shadows  began  to  lengthen 
around  us,  and  the  distant  mountains  to  fade  into  mists,  my 
cousin  was  seized  with  a  moralizing  fit.  "It  seems  to  me,'* 
said  he,  laying  his  hand  lightly  on  my  shoulder,  "that  there 
is  just  at  this  season,  and  this  hour,  a  sympathy  between  us 
and  the  world  we  are  now  contemplating.  The  evening  is 
stealing  upon  nature  as  well  as  upon  us ;  the  shadows  of  the 
opening  day  have  given  place  to  those  of  its  close ;  and  the 
only  difference  is  that  in  the  morning  they  were  before  us, 
now  \hsy  <jire  behind;  and  that  the  first  vanished  in  the 
splendors  of  noonday,  the  latter  will  be  lost  in  the  oblivion 
of  night.  Our  'May  of  life,'  my  dear  Launce,  has  forever 
fled,  and  our  summer  is  over  and  gone.  But,"  continued 
he,  suddenly  recovering  himself  and  slapping  me  gayly  on 
the  shoulder,  "but  why  should  we  repine?  What?  though 
the  capricious  zephyrs  of  spring,  the  heats  and  hurricanes  of 
summer,  have  given  place  to  the  sober  sunshine  of  autumn ! 
— and  though  the  woods  begin  to  assume  the  dappled  livery 
of  decay! — yet  the  prevailing  color  is  still  green.  Gay, 
sprightly  green. 

"Let  us,  then,  comfort  ourselves  with  this  reflection;  that 
though  the  shades  of  the  morning  have  given  place  to  those 
of  the  evening — though  the  spring  is  past,  the  summer  over, 
and  the  autumn  come — still  you  and  I  go  on  our  way  rejoic- 
ing; and  while,  like  the  lofty  mountains  of  our  southern 
America,  our  heads  are  covered  with  snow,  still,  like  them, 
we  feel  the  genial  warmth  of  spring  and  summer  playing 
upon  our  bosoms." 


260  U/orKs  of  U/a6bir)<$toi) 


BY   LAUXCELOT  LANGSTAFF,   ESQ. 

IN  the  description  which  I  gave,  some  time  since,  of 
Cockloft  Hall,  I  totally  forgot  to  make  honorable  mention 
of  the  library ;  which  I  confess  was  a  most  inexcusable  over- 
sight; for  in  truth  it  would  bear  a  comparison,  in  point  of 
usefulness  and  eccentricity,  with  the  motley  collection  of  the 
renowned  hero  of  La  Mancha. 

It  was  chiefly  gathered  together  by  my  grandfather;  who 
spared  neither  pains  nor  expense  to  procure  specimens  of  the 
oldest,  most  quaint,  and  insufferable  books  in  the  whole  com- 
pass of  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  literature.  There  is  a  tra- 
dition in  the  family  that  the  old  gentleman  once  gave  a  grand 
entertainment  in  consequence  of  having  got  possession  of  a 
copy  of  a  philippic,  by  Archbishop  Anselm,  against  the  un- 
seemly luxury  of  long-toed  shoes,  as  worn  by  the  courtiers  in 
the  time  of  William  Rufus,  which  he  purchased  of  an  honest 
brickmaker  in  the  neighborhood,  for  a  little  less  than  forty 
times  its  value.  He  had  undoubtedly  a  singular  reverence 
for  old  authors,  and  his  highest  eulogium  on  his  library  was 
that  it  consisted  of  books  not  to  be  met  with  in  any  other  col- 
lection; and,  as  the  phrase  is,  entirely  out  of  print.  The 
reason  of  which  was,  I  suppose,  that  they  were  not  worthy 
of  being  reprinted. 

Cousin  Christopher  preserves  these  relics  with  great  care, 
and  has  added  considerably  to  the  collection;  for  with  the 
Hall  he  has  inherited  almost  all  the  whim- whams  of  its  for- 
mer possessor.  He  cherishes  a  reverential  regard  for  pon- 
derous tomes  of  Greek  and  Latin ;  though  he  knows  about 
as  much  of  these  languages  as  a  young  bachelor  of  arts  does 
a  year  or  two  after  leaving  college.  A  worm-eaten  work  in 
eight  or  ten  volumes  he  compares  to  an  old  family,  more  re- 
spectable for  its  antiquity  than  its  splendor;  a  lumbering 
folio  he  considers  as  a  duke;  a  sturdy  quarto,  as  an  earl; 
and  a  row  of  gilded  duodecimos,  as  so  many  gallant  knights 
of  the  garter.  But  as  to  modern  works  of  literature,  they 


261 

are  thrust  into  trunks  and  drawers,  as  intruding  upstarts, 
and  regarded  with  as  much  contempt  as  mushroom  nobility 
in  England ;  who,  having  risen  to  grandeur  merely  by  their 
talents  and  services,  are  regarded  as  utterly  unworthy  to 
mingle  their  blood  with  those  noble  currents  that  can  be 
traced  without  a  single  contamination  through  a  long  line  of, 
perhaps,  useless  and  profligate  ancestors,  up  to  William  the 
bastard's  cook,  or  butler,  or  groom,  or  some  one  of  Hollo's 
freebooters. 

Will  Wizard,  whose  studies  are  of  a  most  uncommon  com* 
plexion,  takes  great  delight  in  ransacking  the  library ;  and 
has  been,  during  his  late  sojournings  at  the  Hall,  very  con' 
stant  and  devout  in  his  visits  to  this  receptacle  of  obsolete 
learning.  He  seemed  particularly  tickled  with  the  contents 
of  the  great  mahogany  chest  of  drawers  mentioned  in  the  be- 
ginning of  this  work.  This  venerable  piece  of  architecture 
has  frowned,  in  sullen  majesty,  from  a  corner  of  the  library 
time  out  of  mind ;  and  is  filled  with  musty  manuscripts,  some 
in  my  grandfather's  handwriting,  and  others  evidently  writ- 
ten long  before  his  day. 

It  was  a  sight  worthy  of  a  man's  seeing  to  behold  Will 
with  his  outlandish  phiz  poring  over  old  scrawls  that  would 
puzzle  a  whole  society  of  antiquarians  to  expound,  and  div- 
ing into  receptacles  of  trumpery,  which,  for  a  century  past, 
had  been  undisturbed  by  mortal  hand.  He  would  sit  for 
whole  hours,  with  a  phlegmatic  patience  unknown  in  these 
degenerate  days,  except,  peradventure,  among  the  High 
Dutch  commentators,  prying  into  the  quaint  obscurity  of 
musty  parchments,  until  his  whole  face  seemed  to  be  con- 
verted into  a  folio  leaf  of  black-letter;  and  occasionally, 
when  the  whimsical  meaning  of  an  obscure  passage  flashed 
on  his  mind,  his  countenance  would  curl  up  into  an  expres- 
sion of  Gothic  risibility,  not  unlike  the  physiognomy  of  a 
cabbage  leaf  wilting  before  a  hot  fire. 

At  such  times  there  was  no  getting  Will  to  join  in  our 
walks,  or  take  any  part  in  our  usual  recreations;  he  hardly 
gave  us  an  Oriental  tale  in  a  week,  and  would  smoke  so  in- 


3562  U/or^s  of  U/asbii^tor}  Iruii)$ 


veterately  that  no  one  else  dared  enter  the  library  under  pain 
of  suffocation.  This  was  more  especially  the  case  when  he 
encountered  any  knotty  piece  of  writing  ;  and  he  honestly 
confessed  to  me  that  one  worm-eaten  manuscript,  written  in 
a  pestilent  crabbed  hand,  had  cost  him  a  box  of  the  best 
Spanish  cigars  before  he  could  make  it  out;  and,  after  all, 
it  was  not  worth  a  tobacco-stalk.  Such  is  the  turn  of  my 
knowing  associate  ;  only  let  him  get  fairly  in  the  track  of 
any  odd  out-of-the-way  whim-wham,  and  away  he  goes, 
whip  and  cut,  until  he  either  runs  down  his  game  or  runs 
himself  out  of  breath.  I  never  in  my  life  met  with  a  man 
who  rode  his  hobby-horse  more  intolerably  hard  than  Wizard. 

One  of  his  favorite  occupations  for  some  time  past  has 
been  the  hunting  of  black-letter,  which  he  holds  in  high  re- 
gard, and  he  often  hints  that  learning  has  been  on  the  decline 
ever  since  the  introduction  of  the  Roman  alphabet.  An  old 
book  printed  three  hundred  years  ago  is  a  treasure  ;  and  a 
ragged  scroll,  about  one-half  unintelligible,  fills  him  with 
rapture.  Oh!  with  what  enthusiasm  will  he  dwell  on  the 
discovery  of  the  Pandects  of  Justinian,  and  Livy's  history  ; 
and  when  he  relates  the  pious  exertions  of  the  Medici,  in  re- 
covering the  lost  treasures  of  Greek  and  Roman  literature, 
his  eye  brightens,  and  his  face  assumes  all  the  splendor  of  an 
illuminated  manuscript. 

Will  had  vegetated  for  a  considerable  time  in  perfect  tran- 
quillity among  dust  and  cobwebs,  when  one  morning  as  we 
were  gathered  on  the  piazza,  listening  with  exemplary  pa- 
tience to  one  of  Cousin  Christopher's  long  stories  about  the 
revolutionary  war,  we  were  suddenly  electrified  by  an  explo- 
sion of  laughter  from  the  library.  My  readers,  unless,  per- 
adventure,  they  have  heard  honest  Will  laugh,  can  form  no 
idea  of  the  prodigious  uproar  he  makes.  To  hear  him  in  a 
forest,  you  would  imagine—  that  is  to  say,  if  you  were  classi- 
cal enough  —  that  the  satyrs  and  the  dryads  had  just  discov- 
ered a  pair  of  rural  lovers  in  the  shade,  and  were  deriding, 
with  bursts  of  obstreperous  laughter,  the  blushes  of  the 
nymph  and  the  indignation  of  the  swain;  or  if  it  were 


suddenly,  as  in  the  present  instance,  to  break  upon  the 
serene  and  pensive  silence  of  an  autumnal  morning,  it 
would  cause  a  sensation  something  like  that  which  arises 
from  hearing  a  sudden  clap  of  thunder  in  a  summer's  day, 
when  not  a  cloud  is  to  be  seen  above  the  horizon.  In  short, 
I  recommend  Will's  laugh  as  a  sovereign  remedy  for  the 
spleen ;  and  if  any  of  our  readers  are  troubled  with  that  vil- 
lainous complaint — which  can  hardly  be,  if  they  make  good 
use  of  our  works — I  advise  them  earnestly  to  get  introduced 
to  him  forthwith. 

This  outrageous  merriment  of  Will's,  as  may  be  easily 
supposed,  threw  the  whole  family  into  a  violent  fit  of  won- 
dering ;  we  all,  with  the  exception  of  Christopher,  who  took 
the  interruption  in  high  dudgeon,  silently  stole  up  to  the 
library;  and  bolting  in  upon  him,  were  fain  at  the  first 
glance  to  join  in  his  aspiring  roar.  His  face — but  I  despair 
to  give  an  idea  of  his  appearance! — and  until  his  portrait, 
which  is  now  in  the  hands  of  an  eminent  artist,  is  engraved, 
my  readers  must  be  content.  I  promise  them  they  shah1  one 
day  or  other  have  a  striking  likeness  of  Will's  indescribable 
phiz,  in  all  its  native  comeliness. 

Upon  my  inquiring  the  occasion  of  his  mirth,  he  thrust 
an  old,  rusty,  musty,  and  dusty  manuscript  into  my  hand, 
of  which  I  could  not  decipher  one  word  out  of  ten,  without 
more  trouble  than  it  was  worth.  This  task,  however,  he 
kindly  took  off  my  hands ;  and,  in  a  little  more  than  eight 
and  forty  hours,  produced  a  translation  into  fair  Roman  let- 
ters ;  though  he  assured  me  it  had  lost  a  vast  deal  of  its  humor 
by  being  modernized  and  degraded  into  plain  English.  In 
return  for  the  great  pains  he  had  taken,  I  could  not  do  less 
than  insert  it  in  our  work.  Will  informs  me  that  it  is  but 
one  sheet  of  a  stupendous  bundle  which  still  remains  unin- 
vestigated — who  was  the  author  we  have  not  yet  discovered*, 
but  a  note  on  the  back,  in  my  grandfather's  handwriting, 
informs  us  that  it  was  presented  to  him  as  a  literary  curios- 
ity by  his  particular  friend,  the  illustrious  Rip  Van  Dam, 
formerly  lieutenant-governor  of  the  colony  of  New  Amster- 


of 

dam;  and  whose  fame,  if  it  has  never  reached  these  latter 
days,  it  is  only  because  he  was  too  modest  a  man  ever  to  do 
anything  worthy  of  being  particularly  recorded. 


CHAP.   CIX.   OF  THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  RE- 
NOWNED AND  ANTIENT  CITY  OF  GOTHAM 

How  Gotham  city  conquered  was, 
And  how  the  folk  turn'd  apes — because. 

— Link.  Fid. 

ALBEIT,  much  about  this  time  it  did  fall  out  that  the 
thrice  renowned  and  delectable  city  of  Gotham  did  suffer 
great  discomfiture,  and  was  reduced  to  perilous  extremity, 
by  the  invasion  and  assaults  of  the  Hoppingtots.  These  are 
a  people  inhabiting  a  far  distant  country,  exceedingly  pleas- 
aunte  and  fertile ;  but  they  being  withal  egregiously  addicted 
to  migrations,  do  thence  issue  forth  in  mighty  swarms,  like 
the  Scythians  of  old,  overrunning  divers  countries  and  com- 
monwealths, and  committing  great  devastations  wheresoever 
they  do  go,  by  their  horrible  and  dreadful  feats  and  prowesses. 
They  are  specially  noted  for  being  right  valorous  in  all  exer- 
cises of  the  leg;  and  of  them  it  hath  been  rightly  affirmed 
that  no  nation  in  all  Christendom  or  elsewhere  can  cope  with 
them  in  the  adroit,  dexterous,  and  jocund  shaking  of  the 
heel. 

This  engaging  excellence  doth  stand  unto  them  a  sov- 
ereign recommendation,  by  the  which  they  do  insinuate 
themselves  into  universal  favour  and  good  countenance ;  and 
it  is  a  notable  fact  that,  let  a  Hoppingtot  but  once  introduce 
a  foot  into  company,  and  it  goeth  hardly  if  he  doth  not  con- 
trive to  flourish  his  whole  body  in  thereafter.  The  learned 
Linkum  Fidelius,  in  his  famous  and  unheard-of  treatise  on 
man — whom  he  defineth,  with  exceeding  sagacity,  to  be  a 
corn-cutting,  tooth-drawing  animal — is  particularly  minute 
and  elaborate  in  treating  of  the  nation  of  the  Hoppingtots, 
and  betrays  a  little  of  the  Pythagorean  in  his  theory,  inas- 


265 

much  as  he  accounteth  for  their  being  so  wondrously  adroit 
in  pedestrian  exercises  by  supposing  that  they  did  originally 
acquire  this  unaccountable  and  unparalleled  aptitude  for  huge 
and  unmatchable  feats  of  the  leg,  by  having  heretofore  been 
condemned  for  their  numerous  offenses  against  that  harmless 
race  of  bipeds — or  quadrupeds — for  herein  the  sage  Linkum 
Fidelius  appeareth  to  doubt  and  waver  exceedingly  —  the 
frogs,  to  animate  their  bodies  for  the  space  of  one  or  two 
generations. 

He  also  giveth  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  name  of  Hop- 
pingtots  is  manifestly  derivative  from  this  transmigration. 
Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  matter,  albeit  it  hath  been 
the  subject  of  controversy  among  the  learned,  is  but  little 
pertinent  to  the  subject  of  this  history;  wherefore  shall  we 
treat  and  consider  it  as  naughte. 

Now  these  people,  being  thereto  impelled  by  a  superfluity 
of  appetite,  and  a  plentiful  deficiency  of  the  wherewithal 
to  satisfy  the  same,  did  take  thought  that  the  antient  and 
venerable  city  of  Gotham  was,  peradventure,  possessed  of 
mighty  treasures,  and  did,  moreover,  abound  with  all  man- 
ner of  fish  and  flesh,  and  eatables  and  drinkables,  and  such 
like  delightsome  and  wholesome  excellencies  withal.  Where- 
upon calling  a  council  of  the  most  active  heeled  warriors,  they 
did  resolve  forthwith  to  put  forth  a  mighty  array,  make  them- 
selves masters  of  the  same,  and  revel  in  the  good  things  of 
the  land.  To  this  were  they  hotly  stirred  up,  and  wickedly 
incited,  by  two  redoubtable  and  renowned  warriors,  hight 
Pirouet  and  Bigadoon;  yclept  in  such  sort,  by  reason  that 
they  were  two  mighty,  valiant,  and  invincible  little  men; 
utterly  famous  for  the  victories  of  the  leg  which  tney  had, 
on  divers  illustrious  occasions,  right  gallantly  achieved. 

These  doughty  champions  did  ambitiously  and  wickedly 
inflame  the  minds  of  their  countrymen  with  gorgeous  descrip- 
tions, in  the  which  they  did  cunninglie  set  forth  the  marvelous 
riches  and  luxuries  of  Gotham ;  where  Hoppingtots  might 
have  garments  for  their  bodies,  shirts  to  their  ruffles,  and 
might  riot  most  merrily  every  day  in  the  week  on  beef,  pud- 

*  *  *  L  VOL.  V. 


of 

ding,  and  such  like  lusty  dainties.  They,  Pirouet  and  Riga- 
doon,  did  likewise  hold  out  hopes  of  an  easy  conquest ;  foras- 
much as  the  Gothamites  were  as  yet  but  little  versed  in  the 
mystery  and  science  of  handling  the  legs;  and  being,  more- 
over, like  unto  that  notable  bully  of  antiquity,  Achilles,  most 
vulnerable  to  all  attacks  on  the  heel,  would  doubtless  surren- 
der at  the  very  first  assault.  Whereupon,  on  the  hearing  of 
this  inspiriting  counsel,  the  Hoppingtots  did  set  up  a  prodig- 
ious great  cry  of  joy,  shook  their  heels  in  triumph,  and  were 
all  impatience  to  dance  on  to  Gotham  and  take  it  by  storm. 

The  cunning  Pirouet  and  the  arch  caitiff  Rigadoon  knew 
full  well  how  to  profit  of  this  enthusiasm.  They  forthwith 
did  order  every  man  to  arm  himself  with  a  certain  pestilent 
little  weapon  called  a  fiddle;  to  pack  up  in  his  knapsack  a 
pair  of  silk  breeches,  the  like  of  ruffles,  a  cocked  hat  of  the 
form  of  a  half-moon,  a  bundle  of  catgut — and  inasmuch  as, 
in  marching  to  Gotham,  the  army  might,  peradventure,  be 
Binitten  with  scarcity  of  provisions,  they  did  account  it 
proper  that  each  man  should  take  especial  care  to  carry 
with  him  a  bunch  of  right  merchantable  onions.  Having 
proclaimed  these  orders  by  sound  of  fiddle,  they,  Pirouet 
and  Rigadoon,  did  accordingly  put  their  army  behind  them, 
and  striking  up  the  right  jolly  and  sprightful  tune  of  "Ca 
Ira,"  away  they  all  capered  toward  the  devoted  city  of 
Gotham,  with  a  most  horrible  and  appalling  chattering  of 
voices. 

Of  their  first  appearance  before  the  beleaguered  town, 
and  of  the  various  difficulties  which  did  encounter  them  in 
their  march,  this  history  saith  not ;  being  that  other  matters 
of  more  weighty  import  require  to  be  written.  "When  that 
the  army  of  the  Hoppingtots  did  peregrinate  within  sight  of 
Gotham,  and  the  people  of  the  city  did  behold  the  villainous 
and  hitherto  unseen  capers  and  grimaces  which  they  did 
make,  a  most  horrific  panic  was  stirred  up  among  the  citi- 
zens; and  the  sages  of  the  town  fell  into  great  despondency 
and  tribulation,  as  supposing  that  these  invaders  were  of  the 
race  of  the  Jig-hees,  who  did  make  men  into  baboons  when 


Salma^urjdi  267 

they  achieved  a  conquest  over  them.  The  sages,  therefore, 
called  upon  all  the  dancing  men  and  dancing  women,  and 
exhorted  them  with  great  vehemency  of  speech  to  make  heel 
against  the  invaders,  and  to  put  themselves  upon  such  gal- 
lant defense,  such  glorious  array,  and  such  sturdy  evolution, 
elevation,  and  transposition  of  the  foot  as  might  incontinently 
impester  the  legs  of  the  Hoppingtots,  and  produce  their  com- 
plete discomfiture.  But  so  it  did  happen,  by  great  mischance, 
that  divers  light-heeled  youth  of  Gotham,  more  especially 
those  who  are  descended  from  three  wise  men,  so  renowned 
of  yore  for  having  most  venturesomely  voyaged  over  sea  in 
a  bowl,  were,  from  time  to  time,  captured  and  inveigled  into 
the  camp  of  the  enemy;  where,  being  foolishly  cajoled  and 
treated  for  a  season  with  outlandish  disports  and  pleasan- 
tries, they  were  sent  back  to  their  friends,  entirely  changed, 
degenerated,  and  turned  topsy-turvy;  insomuch  that  they 
thought  thenceforth  of  nothing  but  their  heels,  always  essay- 
ing to  thrust  them  into  the  most  manifest  point  of  view;  and, 
in  a  word,  as  might  truly  be  affirmed,  did  forever  after  walk 
upon  their  heads  outright. 

And  the  Hoppingtots  did  day  by  day,  and  at  late  hours 
of  the  night,  wax  more  and  more  urgent  in  this  their  invest- 
ment of  the  city.  At  one  time  they  would,  in  goodly  proces- 
sion, make  an  open  assault  by  sound  of  fiddle  in  a  tremen- 
dous contradance;  and  anon  they  would  advance  by  little 
detachments  and  maneuvers  to  take  the  town  by  figuring  in 
cotilions.  But  truly  their  most  cunning  and  devilish  craft 
and  subtility  was  made  manifest  in  their  strenuous  endeavors 
to  corrupt  the  garrison,  by  a  most  insidious  and  pestilent  dance 
called  the  "Waltz."  This,  in  good  truth,  was  a  potent  aux- 
iliary ;  for  by  it  were  the  heads  of  the  simple  Gothamites  most 
villainously  turned,  their  wits  sent  a  wool-gathering,  and 
themselves  on  the  point  of  surrendering  at  discretion  even 
unto  the  very-  arms  of  their  invading  f  oemen. 

At  length  the  fortifications  of  the  town  began  to  give 
manifest  symptoms  of  decay ;  inasmuch  as  the  breastwork 
of  decency  was  considerably  broken  down,  and  the  curtain 


£68  U/orl^s  of 

works  of  propriety  blown  up.  "When  that  the  cunning  caitiff 
Pirouet  beheld  the  ticklish  and  jeopardized  state  of  the  city, 
"Now,  by  my  leg,"  quoth  he — he  always  swore  by  his  leg, 
being  that  it  was  an  exceeding  goodlie  leg — "Now,  by  my 
leg,"  quoth  he,  "but  this  is  no  great  matter  of  recreation;  I 
will  show  these  people  a  pretty,  strange,  and  new  way  for- 
sooth, presentlie,  and  will  shake  the  dust  off  my  pumps  upon 
this  most  obstinate  and  uncivilized  town."  Whereupon  he 
ordered,  and  did  command  his  warriors,  one  and  all,  that 
they  should  put  themselves  in  readiness,  and  prepare  to  carry 
the  town  by  a  grand  ball.  They,  in  no  wise  to  be  daunted, 
do  forthwith,  at  the  word,  equip  themselves  for  the  assault ; 
and  in  good  faith,  truly,  it  was  a  gracious  and  glorious  sight, 
a,  most  triumphant  and  incomparable  spectacle,  to  behold 
them  gallantly  arrayed  in  glossy  and  shining  silk  breeches 
tied  with  abundance  of  ribbon ;  with  silken  hose  of  the  gor- 
geous color  of  the  salmon;  right  goodlie  morocco  pumps, 
decorated  with  clasps  or  buckles  of  a  most  cunninge  and 
secret  contrivance,  inasmuch  as  they  did  of  themselves  grap- 
ple to  the  shoe  without  any  aid  of  fluke  or  tongue,  marvel- 
ously  ensembling  witchcraft  and  necromancy.  They  had, 
withal,  exuberant  chitterlings,  which  puffed  out  at  the  neck 
and  bosom,  after  a  most  jolly  fashion,  like  unto  the  beard  of 
an  antient  he-turkey;  and  cocked  hats,  the  which  they  did 
carry  not  on  their  heads,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Gothamites, 
but  under  their  arms,  as  a  roasted  fowl  his  gizzard. 

Thus  being  equipped  and  marshaled,  they  do  attack,  as- 
sault, batter  and  belabour  the  town  with  might  and  main ; 
most  gallantly  displaying  the  vigor  of  their  legs,  and  shak- 
ing their  heels  at  it  most  emphatically.  And  the  manner  of 
their  attack  was  in  this  sort :  first,  they  did  thunder  and  gal- 
lop forward  in  a  contre-temps;  and  anon  displayed  column 
in  a  Cossack  dance,  a  fandango,  or  a  gavot.  Whereat  the 
Gothamites,  in  no  wise  understanding  this  unknown  system 
of  warfare,  marveled  exceedinglie,  and  did  open  their  mouths 
incontinently  the  full  distance  of  a  bowshot,  meaning  a  cross- 
bow, in  sore  dismay  and  apprehension.  Whereupon,  saith 


Rigadoon,  flourishing  his  left  leg  with  great  expression  of 
valor,  and  most  magnific  carriage — "My  copesmates,  for 
what  wait  we  here ;  are  not  the  townsmen  already  won  to 
our  favor?  Do  not  their  women  and  young  damsels  wave 
to  us  from  the  walls  in  such  sort  that,  albeit  there  is  some 
show  of  defense,  yet  is  it  manifestly  converted  into  our  inter- 
ests?" So  saying,  he  made  no  more  ado,  but  leaping  into  the 
air  about  a  flight-shot,  and  crossing  his  feet  six  times,  after 
the  manner  of  the  Hoppingtots,  he  gave  a  short  partridge- 
run,  and  with  mighty  vigor  and  swiftness  did  bolt  outright 
over  the  walls  with  a  somerset.  The  whole  army  of  Hop- 
pingtots danced  in  after  their  valiant  chieftain,  with  an  enor- 
mous squeaking  of  fiddles,  and  a  horrific  blasting  and  brat- 
tling of  horns ;  insomuch  that  the  dogs  did  howl  in  the  streets, 
so  hideously  were  their  ears  assailed.  The  Gothamites  made 
some  semblance  of  defense,  but  their  women  having  been  all 
won  over  into  the  interest  of  the  enemy,  they  were  shortly 
reduced  to  make  most  abject  submission ;  and  delivered  over 
to  the  coercion  of  certain  professors  of  the  Hoppingtots,  who 
did  put  them  under  most  ignominious  durance,  for  the  space 
of  a  long  time,  until  they  had  learned  to  turn  out  their  toes, 
and  flourish  their  legs  after  the  true  manner  of  then*  con- 
querors. And  thus,  after  the  manner  I  have  related,  was 
the  mighty  and  puissant  city  of  Gotham  circumvented,  and 
taken  by  a  coup  de  pied ;  or,  as  it  might  be  rendered,  by 
force  of  legs. 

The  conquerors  showed  no  mercy,  but  did  put  all  ages, 
sexes,  and  conditions  to  the  fiddle  and  the  dance  j  and,  in  a 
word,  compelled  and  enforced  them  to  become  absolute  Hop- 
pingtots. "Habit,"  as  the  ingenious  Linkum  Fidelius  pro- 
foundly affirmeth,  "is  second  nature/'  And  this  original 
and  invaluable  observation  hath  been  most  aptly  proved  and 
illustrated  by  the  example  of  the  Gothamites,  ever  since  this 
disastrous  and  unlucky  mischance.  In  process  of  time,  they 
have  waxed  to  be  most  flagrant,  outrageous,  and  abandoned 
dancers ;  they  do  ponder  on  naughte  but  how  to  gallantize  it 
at  balls,  routs,  and  fandangoes,  insomuch  that  the  like  was 


270  U/orXs  of  U/asl?ip<ftoi7 

in  no  time  or  place  ever  observed  before.  They  do,  more- 
over, pitifully  devote  their  nights  to  the  jollification  of  the 
legs,  and  their  days  forsooth  to  the  instruction  and  edifica- 
tion of  the  heel.  And  to  conclude:  their  young  folk,  who 
whilom  did  bestow  a  modicum  of  leisure  upon  the  improve- 
ment of  the  head,  have  of  late  utterly  abandoned  this  hope- 
less task;  and  have  quietly,  as  it  were,  settled  themselves 
down  into  mere  machines,  wound  up  by  a  tune,  and  set  in 
motion  by  a  fiddlestick ! 


No.  XVIII.— -TUESDAY,  NOVEMBER  24,  1807 


THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK 

BY  LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF,   ESQ. 

THE  following  story  has  been  handed  down  by  family 
tradition  for  more  than  a  century.  It  is  one  on  which  my 
cousin  Christopher  dwells  with  more  than  usual  prolixity; 
and  being,  in  some  measure,  connected  with  a  personage 
often  quoted  in  our  work,  I  have  thought  it  worthy  of  being 
laid  before  my  readers. 

Soon  after  my  grandfather,  Mr.  Lemuel  Cockloft,  had 
quietly  settled  himself  at  tie  iiall,  and  just  about  the  time 
that  the  gossips  of  the  neighborhood,  tired  of  prying  into  his 
affairs,  were  anxious  for  some  new  tea-table  topic,  the  busy 
community  of  our  little  village  was  thrown  into  a  grand  tur- 
moil of  curiosity  and  conjecture — a  situation  very  common 
fco  little  gossiping  villages — by  the  sudden  and  unaccountable 
Appearance  of  a  mysterious  individual. 

The  object  of  this  solicitude  was  a  little  black-looking 
man,  of  a  foreign  aspect,  who  took  possession  of  an  old  build- 
ing which,  having  long  had  the  reputation  of  being  haunted, 
was  in  a  state  of  ruinous  desolation,  and  an  object  of  fear  to 


271 

all  true  believers  in  ghosts.  He  usually  wore  a  high  sugar- 
loaf  hat  with  a  narrow  brim ;  and  a  little  black  cloak,  which, 
short  as  he  was,  scarcely  reached  below  his  knees.  He 
sought  no  intimacy  or  acquaintance  with  any  one ;  appeared 
to  take  no  interest  in  the  pleasures  or  the  little  broils  of  the 
village ;  nor  ever  talked,  except  sometimes  to  himself  in  an 
outlandish  tongue.  He  commonly  carried  a  large  book, 
covered  with  sheepskin,  under  his  arm ;  appeared  always  to 
be  lost  in  meditation ;  and  was  often  met  by  the  peasantry ; 
sometimes  watching  the  dawning  of  day,  sometimes  at  noon 
seated  under  a  tree  poring  over  his  volume,  and  sometimes 
at  evening  gazing  with  a  look  of  sober  tranquillity  at  the  sun 
as  it  gradually  sunk  below  the  horizon. 

The  good  people  of  the  vicinity  beheld  something  pro- 
digiously singular  in  all  this.  A  profound  mystery  seemed 
to  hang  about  the  stranger,  which,  with  all  their  sagacity, 
they  could  not  penetrate ;  and  in  the  excess  of  worldly  charity 
they  pronounced  it  a  sure  sign  "that  he  was  no  better  than 
he  should  be";  a  phrase  innocent  enough  in  itself,  but 
which,  as  applied  in  common,  signifies  nearly  everything 
that  is  bad.  The  young  people  thought  him  a  gloomy  mis- 
anthrope, because  he  never  joined  in  their  sports.  The  old 
men  thought  still  more  hardly  of  him  because  he  followed  no 
trade,  nor  ever  seemed  ambitious  of  earning  a  farthing. 
And  as  to  the  old  gossips,  baffled  by  the  inflexible  taciturnity 
of  the  stranger,  they  unanimously  decreed  that  a  man  who 
could  not  or  would  not  talk  was  no  better  than  a  dumb  beast. 
The  little  man  in  black,  careless  of  their  opinions,  seemed 
resolved  to  maintain  the  liberty  of  keeping  his  own  secret; 
and  the  consequence  was,  that  in  a  little  while  the  whole 
village  was  in  an  uproar;  for  in  little  communities  of  this 
description  the  members  have  always  the  privilege  of  being 
thoroughly  versed,  and  even  of  meddling,  in  all  the  affairs  of 
each  other. 

A  confidential  conference  was  held  one  Sunday  morning 
after  sermon,  at  the  door  of  the  village  church,  and  the 
character  of  the  unknown  fully  investigated.  The  school- 


272  U/orKs  of 

master  gave  as  his  opinion  that  he  was  the  wandering  Jew; 
the  sexton  was  certain  that  he  must  be  a  freemason  from  his 
silence;  a  third  maintained,  with  great  obstinacy,  that  he 
Was  a  High  German  doctor,  and  that  the  book  which  he  car- 
ried about  with  him  contained  the  secrets  of  the  black  art; 
but  the  most  prevailing  opinion  seemed  to  be  that  he  was  a 
witch — a  race  of  beings  at  that  time  abounding  in  those 
parts,  and  a  sagacious  old  matron  from  Connecticut  proposed 
to  ascertain  the  fact  by  sousing  him  into  a  kettle  of  hot 
water. 

Suspicion,  when  once  afloat,  goes  with  wind  and  tide  and 
soon  becomes  certainty.  Many  a  stormy  night  was  the  little 
man  in  black  seen  by  the  flashes  of  lightning,  frisking  and 
curveting  in  the  air  upon  a  broomstick ;  and  it  was  always 
observed,  that  at  those  times  the  storm  did  more  mischief 
than  at  any  other.  The  old  lady  in  particular,  who  sug- 
gested the  humane  ordeal  of  the  boiling  kettle,  lost  on  one  of 
these  occasions  a  fine  brindle  cow ;  which  accident  was  entirely 
ascribed  to  the  vengeance  of  the  little  man  in  black.  If  ever 
a  mischievous  hireling  rode  his  master's  favorite  horse  to  a 
distant  frolic,  and  the  animal  was  observed  to  be  lame  and 
jaded  in  the  morning,  the  little  man  in  black  was  sure  to  be 
at  the  bottom  of  the  affair;  nor  could  a  high  wind  howl 
through  the  village  at  night  but  the  old  women  shrugged  up 
their  shoulders,  and  observed,  "the  little  man  in  black  was 
in  his  tantrums."  In  short,  he  became  the  bugbear  of 
«very  house,  and  was  as  effectual  in  frightening  little  chil- 
dren into  obedience  and  hysterics  as  the  redoubtable  Raw- 
head-and-bloody-bones  himself;  nor  could  a  housewife  of 
the  village  sleep  in  peace,  except  under  the  guardianship  of 
a  horse-shoe  nailed  to  the  door. 

The  object  of  these  direful  suspicions  remained  for  some 
time  totally  ignorant  of  the  wonderful  quandary  he  had 
occasioned ;  but  he  was  soon  doomed  to  feel  its  effects.  An 
individual  who  is  once  so  unfortunate  as  to  incur  the  odium 
of  a  village  is  in  a  great  measure  outlawed  and  proscribed, 
and  becomes  a  mark  for  injury  and  insult;  particularly  if  he 


Sal/na$ur>di  273 

has  not  the  power  or  the  disposition  to  recriminate.  The  little 
venomous  passions,  which  in  the  great  world  are  dissipated 
and  weakened  by  being  widely  diffused,  act  in  the  narrow 
limits  of  a  country  town  with  collected  vigor,  and  become 
rancorous  in  proportion  as  they  are  confined  in  their  sphere 
of  action.  The  little  man  in  black  experienced  the  truth  of 
this;  every  mischievous  urchin  returning  from  school  had 
full  liberty  to  break  his  windows ;  and  this  was  considered  as 
a  most  daring  exploit ;  for  in  such  awe  did  they  stand  of  him 
that  the  most  adventurous  schoolboy  was  never  seen  to  ap- 
proach his  threshold,  and  at  night  would  prefer  going  round 
by  the  cross-roads,  where  a  traveler  had  been  murdered  by 
the  Indians,  rather  than  pass  by  the  door  of  his  forlorn 
habitation. 

The  only  living  creature  that  seemed  to  have  any  care  o* 
affection  for  this  deserted  being  was  an  old  turnspit — the 
companion  of  his  lonely  mansion  and  his  solitary  wanderings; 
the  sharer  of  his  scanty  meals,  and  sorry  am  I  to  say  it — the 
sharer  of  his  persecutions.  The  turnspit,  like  his  master, 
was  peaceable  and  inoffensive;  never  known  to  bark  at  a 
horse,  to  growl  at  a  traveler,  or  to  quarrel  with  the  dogs  of 
the  neighborhood.  He  followed  close  at  his  master's  heels 
when  he  went  out,  and  when  he  returned  stretched  himself 
in  the  sunbeams  at  the  door ;  demeaning  himself  in  all  things 
like  a  civil  and  well-disposed  turnspit.  But  notwithstanding 
his  exemplary  deportment,  he  fell  likewise  under  the  ill  re- 
port of  the  village ;  as  being  the  familiar  of  the  little  man  in 
black,  and  the  evil  spirit  that  presided  at  his  incantations. 
The  old  hovel  was  considered  as  the  scene  of  their  unhallowed 
rites,  and  its  harmless  tenants  regarded  with  a  detestation 
which  their  inoffensive  conduct  never  merited.  Though 
pelted  and  jeered  at  by  the  brats  of  the  village,  and  fre- 
quently abused  by  their  parents,  the  little  man  in  black  never 
turned  to  rebuke  them ;  and  his  faithful  dog,  when  wantonly 
assaulted,  looked  up  wistfully  in  his  master's  face,  and  there 
learned  a  lesson  of  patience  and  forbearance. 

The  movements  of  this  inscrutable  being  had  long  been 


S574  U/or^s  of 

the  subject  of  speculation  at  Cockloft  Hall,  for  its  inmates 
were  full  as  much  given  to  wondering  as  their  descendants. 
The  patience  with  which  he  bore  his  persecutions  particularly 
surprised  them ;  for  patience  is  a  virtue  but  little  known  in 
the  Cockloft  family.  My  grandmother,  who  it  appears  was 
rather  superstitious,  saw  in  this  humility  nothing  but  the 
gloomy  sullenness  of  a  wizard,  who  restrained  himself  for 
the  present  in  hopes  of  midnight  vengeance;  the  parson  of  the 
village,  who  was  a  man  of  some  reading,  pronounced  it  the 
stubborn  insensibility  of  a  stoic  philosopher;  my  grandfather, 
who,  worthy  soul,  seldom  wandered  abroad  in  search  of  con- 
clusions, took  a  data  from  his  own  excellent  heart,  and  re- 
garded it  as  the  humble  forgiveness  of  a  Christian.  But 
however  different  were  their  opinions  as  to  the  character  of 
the  stranger,  they  agreed  in  one  particular,  namely,  in  never 
intruding  upon  his  solitude ;  and  my  grandmother,  who  was 
at  that  time  nursing  my  mother,  never  left  the  room  without 
wisely  putting  the  large  family  Bible  in  the  cradle;  a  sure 
talisman,  in  her  opinion,  against  witchcraft  and  necromancy. 
One  stormy  winter  night,  when  a  bleak  northeast  wind 
moaned  about  the  cottages  and  howled  around  the  village 
steeple,  my  grandfather  was  returning  from  club,  preceded 
by  a  servant  with  a  lantern.  Just  as  he  arrived  opposite  the 
desolate  abode  of  the  little  man  in  black,  he  was  arrested  by 
the  piteous  howling  of  a  dog,  which,  heard  in  the  pauses  of  a 
Btorrn,  was  exquisitely  mournful;  and  he  fancied  now  and 
then  that  he  caught  the  low  and  broken  groans  of  some  one 
in  distress.  He  stopped  for  some  minutes,  hesitating  between 
the  benevolence  of  his  heart  and  a  sensation  of  genuine  deli- 
cacy, which,  in  spite  of  his  eccentricity,  he  fully  possessed — 
and  which  forbade  him  to  pry  into  the  concerns  of  his  neigh- 
bors. Perhaps,  too,  this  hesitation  might  have  been  strength- 
ened by  a  little  taint  of  superstition;  for  surely,  if  the  un- 
known had  been  addicted  to  witchcraft,  this  was  a  most 
propitious  night  for  his  vagaries.  At  length  the  old  gentle- 
man's philanthropy  predominated ;  he  approached  the  hovel, 
and  pushing  open  the  door — for  poverty  has  no  occasion  for 


275 

locks  and  keys — beheld,  by  the  light  of  the  lantern,  a  scene 
that  smote  his  generous  heart  to  the  core. 

On  a  miserable  bed,  with  pallid  and  emaciated  visage 
and  hollow  eyes ;  in  a  room  destitute  of  every  convenience ; 
without  fire  to  warm  or  friend  to  console  him,  lay  this  help- 
less mortal,  who  had  been  so  long  the  terror  and  wonder  of 
the  village.  His  dog  was  crouching  on  the  scanty  coverlet, 
and  shivering  with  cold.  My  grandfather  stepped  softly  and 
hesitatingly  to  the  bedside,  and  accosted  the  forlorn  sufferer 
in  his  usual  accents  of  kindness.  The  little  man  in  black 
seemed  recalled  by  the  tones  of  compassion  from  the  lethargy 
into  which  he  had  fallen ;  for,  though  his  heart  was  almost 
frozen,  there  was  yet  one  chord  that  answered  to  the  call  of 
the  good  old  man  who  bent  over  him ;  the  tones  of  sympathy, 
so  novel  to  his  ear,  called  back  his  wandering  senses,  and 
acted  like  a  restorative  to  his  solitary  feelings. 

He  raised  his  eyes,  but  they  were  vacant  and  haggard. 
He  put  forth  his  hand,  but  it  was  cold;  he  essayed  to  speak, 
but  the  sound  died  away  in  his  throat.  He  pointed  to  his 
mouth  with  an  expression  of  dreadful  meaning,  and,  sad  to 
relate !  my  grandfather  understood  that  the  harmless  stranger, 
deserted  by  society,  was  perishing  with  hunger !  With  the 
quick  impulse  of  humanity  he  dispatched  the  servant  to  the 
Hall  for  refreshment.  A  little  warm  nourishment  renovated 
him  for  a  short  time,  but  not  long ;  it  was  evident  his  pil- 
grimage was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  he  was  about  entering 
that  peaceful  asylum  where  "the  wicked  cease  from  troub» 
ling." 

His  tale  of  misery  was  short,  and  quickly  told ;  infirmities 
had  stolen  upon  him,  heightened  by  the  rigors  of  the  season ; 
he  had  taken  to  his  bed  without  strength  to  rise  and  ask  for 
assistance.  "And  if  I  had,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  bitter 
despondency,  "to  whom  should  I  have  applied?  I  have  no 
friend  that  I  know  of  in  the  world !  The  villagers  avoid  me 
as  something  loathsome  and  dangerous;  and  here,  in  the 
midst  of  Christians,  should  I  have  perished,  without  a  fellow- 
being  to  soothe  the  last  moments  of  existence  and  close  my 


376  U/orKe  of 

dying  eyes,  had  not  the  howlings  of  my  faithful  dog  excited 
your  attention." 

He  seemed  deeply  sensible  of  the  kindness  of  my  grand- 
father; and  at  one  time,  as  he  looked  up  into  his  old  bene- 
factor's face,  a  solitary  tear  was  observed  to  steal  adown  the 
parched  furrows  of  his  cheek.  Poor  outcast!  it  was  the  last 
tear  he  shed ;  but  I  warrant  it  was  not  the  first  by  millions ! 
My  grandfather  watched  by  him  all  night.  Toward  morning 
he  gradually  declined ;  and  as  the  rising  sun  gleamed  through 
the  window,  he  begged  to  be  raised  in  his  bed  that  he  might 
look  at  it  for  the  last  time.  He  contemplated  it  for  a  mo- 
ment with  a  kind  of  religious  enthusiasm,  and  his  lips  moved 
as  if  engaged  in  prayer.  The  strange  conjectures  concerning 
him  rushed  on  my  grandfather's  mind:  "He  is  an  idolater!" 
thought  he,  "and  is  worshiping  the  sun!"  He  listened  a 
moment  and  blushed  at  his  own  uncharitable  suspicion;  he 
was  only  engaged  hi  the  pious  devotions  of  a  Christian.  His 
simple  orison  being  finished,  the  little  man  in  black  withdrew 
his  eyes  from  the  east,  and  taking  my  grandfather's  hand  in 
one  of  his,  and  making  a  motion  with  the  other  toward  the 
sun,  "I  love  to  contemplate  it,"  said  he;  "'tis  an  emblem 
of  the  universal  benevolence  of  a  true  Christian ;  and  it  is  the 
most  glorious  work  of  Him  who  is  philanthropy  itself!"  My 
grandfather  blushed  still  deeper  at  his  ungenerous  surmises; 
he  had  pitied  the  stranger  at  first,  but  now  he  revered  him. 
He  turned  once  more  to  regard  him,  but  his  countenance  had 
undergone  a  change — the  holy  enthusiasm  that  had  lighted 
up  each  feature  had  given  place  to  an  expression  of  mys- 
terious import ;  a  gleam  of  grandeur  seemed  to  steal  across 
his  Gothic  visage,  and  he  appeared  full  of  some  mighty 
eecret  which  he  hesitated  to  impart.  He  raised  the  tattered 
nightcap  that  had  sunk  almost  over  his  eyes,  and  waving  his 
withered  hand  with  a  slow  and  feeble  expression  of  dignity : 
"In  me,*'  said  he,  with  laconic  solemnity — "in  me  you  be- 
hold the  last  descendant  of  the  renowned  Linkum  Fidelius!" 
My  grandfather  gazed  at  him  with  reverence;  for  though  he 
had  never  heard  of  the  illustrious  personage  thus  pompously 


Salma$ur?dl  277 

announced,  yet  there  was  a  certain  black-letter  dignity  in  the 
name  that  peculiarly  struck  his  fancy  and  commanded  his 
respect. 

"You  have  been  kind  to  me,"  continued  the  little  man  in 
black,  after  a  momentary  pause,  "and  richly  will  I  requite 
your  kindness  by  making  you  heir  to  my  treasures!  In 
yonder  large  deal  box  are  the  volumes  of  my  illustrious  an- 
cestor, of  which  I  alone  am  the  fortunate  possessor.  Inherit 
them — ponder  over  them,  and  be  wise!"  He  grew  faint 
with  the  exertion  he  had  made  and  sunk  back  almost  breath- 
less on  his  pillow.  His  hand,  which,  inspired  with  the  im- 
portance of  his  subject,  he  had  raised  to  my  grandfather's 
arm,  slipped  from  its  hold  and  fell  over  the  side  of  the  bedv 
and  his  faithful  dog  licked  it ;  as  if  anxious  to  soothe  the  last 
moments  of  his  master,  and  testify  his  gratitude  to  the  hand 
that  had  so  often  cherished  him.  The  untaught  caresses  of 
the  faithful  animal  were  not  lost  upon  his  dying  master.  He 
raised  his  languid  eyes — turned  them  on  the  dog,  then  on  my 
grandfather;  and  having  given  this  silent  recommendation — 
closed  them  forever. 

The  remains  of  the  little  man  in  black,  notwithstanding 
the  objections  of  many  pious  people,  were  decently  interred 
in  the  churchyard  of  the  village;  and  his  spirit,  harmless  as 
the  body  it  once  animated,  has  never  been  known  to  molest  a 
living  being.  My  grandfather  complied,  as  far  as  possible, 
with  his  last  request;  he  conveyed  the  volumes  of  Linkum 
Fidelius  to  his  library;  he  pondered  over  them  frequently — 
but  whether  he  grew  wiser,  the  tradition  doth  not  mention. 
This  much  is  certain,  that  his  kindness  to  the  poor  descendant 
of  Fidelius  was  amply  rewarded  by  the  approbation  of  his 
own  heart  and  the  devoted  attachment  of  the  old  turnspit, 
who,  transferring  his  affection  from  his  deceased  master  to 
his  benefactor,  became  his  constant  attendant,  and  was  father 
to  a  long  line  of  runty  curs  that  still  flourish  in  the  family. 
And  thus  was  the  Cockloft  library  first  enriched  by  the  in- 
valuable folios  of  the  sage  Linkum  Fidelius. 


278  Uterus  of  U/asf?ir?<jtop 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KELI 

KHAN, 

TO  ASEM   HACCHEM,    PRINCIPAL  SLAVE-DRIVER  TO  HIS 
HIGHNESS  THE   BASHAW  OF  TRIPOLI 

THOUGH  I  am  often  disgusted,  my  good  Asem,  with  the 
vices  and  absurdities  of  the  men  of  this  country,  yet  the 
women  afford  me  a  world  of  amusement.  Their  lively 
prattle  is  as  diverting  as  the  chattering  of  the  red-tailed 
parrot ;  nor  can  the  green-headed  monkey  of  Timandi  equal 
them  in  whim  and  playfulness.  But,  notwithstanding  these 
valuable  qualifications,  I  am  sorry  to  observe  they  are  not 
treated  with  half  the  attention  bestowed  on  the  before-men- 
tioned animals.  These  infidels  put  their  parrots  in  cages 
and  chain  their  monkeys ;  but  their  women,  instead  of  being 
carefully  shut  up  in  harems  and  seraglios,  are  abandoned 
to  the  direction  of  their  own  reason  and  suffered  to  run 
about  in  perfect  freedom,  like  other  domestic  animals.  This 
comes,  Asem,  of  treating  their  women  as  rational  beings  and 
allowing  them  souls.  The  consequence  of  this  piteous  neglect 
may  easily  be  imagined.  They  have  degenerated  into  all 
their  native  wildness,  are  seldom  to  be  caught  at  home,  and, 
at  an  early  age,  take  to  the  streets  and  highways,  where  they 
rove  about  in  droves,  giving  almost  as  much  annoyance  to 
the  peaceable  people  as  the  troops  of  wild  dogs  that  infest 
our  great  cities,  or  the  flights  of  locusts  that  sometimes  spread 
famine  and  desolation  over  whole  regions  of  fertility. 

This  propensity  to  relapse  into  pristine  wildness  convinces 
me  of  the  untamable  disposition  of  the  sex,  who  may  indeed 
be  partially  domesticated  by  a  long  course  of  confinement 
and  restraint,  but  the  moment  they  are  restored  to  personal 
freedom  become  wild  as  the  young  partridge  of  this  country, 
which,  though  scarcely  half  hatched,  will  take  to  the  fields 
and  run  about  with  the  shell  upon  its  back. 

Notwithstanding   their  wildness,  however,  they  are  re- 


279 

markably  easy  of  access,  and  suffer  themselves  to  be  ap- 
proached at  certain  hours  of  the  day  without  any  symptoms 
of  apprehension;  and  I  have  even  happily  succeeded  in  de- 
tecting them  at  their  domestic  occupations.  One  of  the  most 
important  of  these  consists  in  thumping  vehemently  on  a 
kind  of  musical  instrument,  and  producing  a  confused,  hide- 
ous, and  indefinable  uproar,  which  they  call  the  description 
of  a  battle ;  a  jest,  no  doubt,  for  they  are  wonderfully  face- 
tious at  tunes,  and  make  great  practice  of  passing  jokes  upon 
strangers.  Sometimes  they  employ  themselves  in  painting 
little  caricatures  of  landscapes,  wherein  they  display  their 
eingular  drollery  in  bantering  nature  fairly  out  of  counte- 
nance; representing  her  tricked  out  in  all  the  tawdry  finery 
of  copper  skies,  purple  rivers,  calico  rocks,  red  grass,  clouds 
that  look  like  old  clothes  set  adrift  by  the  tempest,  and  foxy 
trees  whose  melancholy  foliage,  drooping  and  curling  most 
fantastically,  reminds  me  of  an  undressed  periwig  that  I 
have  now  and  then  seen  hung  on  a  stick  in  a  barber's  win- 
dow. At  other  times  they  employ  themselves  in  acquiring 
a  smattering  of  languages  spoken  by  nations  on  the  other 
side  of  the  globe,  as  they  find  their  own  language  not  suffi- 
ciently copious  to  supply  then*  constant  demands  and  express 
their  multifarious  ideas.  But  their  most  important  domestic 
avocation  is  to  embroider,  on  satin  or  muslin,  flowers  of  a 
nondescript  kind,  in  which  the  great  art  is  to  make  them  as 
unlike  nature  as  possible;  or  to  fasten  little  bits  of  silver, 
gold,  tinsel,  and  glass  on  long  strips  of  muslin,  which  they 
drag  after  them  with  much  dignity  whenever  they  go  abroad; 
a  fine  lady,  like  a  bird  of  paradise,  being  estimated  by  the 
length  of  her  tail. 

But  do  not,  my  friend,  fall  into  the  enormous  error  of 
supposing  that  the  exercise  of  these  arts  is  attended  with  any 
useful  or  profitable  result.  Believe  me,  thou  couldst  not  in- 
dulge an  idea  more  unjust  and  injurious;  for  it  appears  to  be 
an  established  maxim,  among  the  women  of  this  country, 
that  a  lady  loses  her  dignity  when  she  condescends  to  be 
useful,  and  forfeits  all  rank  in  society  the  moment  she  can 


280  ll/or^s  of  U/asl?ii}$toi) 

be  convicted  of  earning  a  farthing.  Their  labors,  therefore, 
are  directed  not  toward  supplying  their  household,  but  in 
decking  their  persons,  and — generous  souls! — they  deck  their 
persons,  not  so  much  to  please  themselves  as  to  gratify 
others,  particularly  strangers.  I  am  confident  thou  wilt 
stare  at  this,  my  good  Asem,  accustomed  as  thou  art  to  our 
eastern  females,  who  shrink  in  blushing  timidity  even  from 
the  glance  of  a  lover,  and  are  so  chary  of  their  favors  that 
they  even  seem  fearful  of  lavishing  their  smiles  too  profusely 
on  their  husbands.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  the  stranger  has 
the  first  place  in  female  regard,  and,  so  far  do  they  carry 
their  hospitality,  that  I  have  seen  a  fine  lady  slight  a  dozen 
tried  friends  and  real  admirers,  who  lived  in  her  smiles  and 
made  her  happiness  their  study,  merely  to  allure  the  vague 
and  wandering  glances  of  a  stranger,  who  viewed  her  person 
with  indifference  and  treated  her  advances  with  contempt. — 
By  the  whiskers  of  our  sublime  bashaw,  but  this  is  highly 
flattering  to  a  foreigner!  and  thou  mayest  judge  how  par- 
ticularly pleasing  to  one  who  is,  like  myself,  so  ardent  an 
admirer  of  the  sex.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  condemn  this 
extraordinary  manifestation  of  good  will — let  their  own  coun' 
trymen  look  to  that. 

Be  not  alarmed,  I  conjure  thee,  my  dear  Asem,  lest  1 
should  be  tempted  by  these  beautiful  barbarians  to  break  the 
faith  I  owe  to  the  three-and-twenty  wives  from  whom  my 
unhappy  destiny  has  perhaps  severed  me  forever.  No, 
Asem,  neither  time  nor  the  bitter  succession  of  misfortunes 
that  pursues  me  can  shake  from  my  heart  the  memory  of 
former  attachments.  I  listen  with  tranquil  heart  to  the 
strumming  and  prattling  of  these  fair  sirens;  their  whim- 
sical paintings  touch  not  the  tender  chord  of  my  affections ; 
and  I  would  still  defy  their  fascinations,  though  they  trailed 
after  them  trains  as  long  as  the  gorgeous  trappings  which 
are  dragged  at  the  heels  of  the  holy  camel  of  Mecca ;  or  as 
the  tail  of  the  great  beast  in  our  prophet's  vision,  which 
measured  three  hundred  and  forty-nine  leagues,  two  miles, 
three  furlongs  and  a  hand-breadth  in  longitude. 


281 

The  dress  of  these  women  is,  if  possible,  more  eccentric 
and  whimsical  than  their  deportment ;  and  they  take  an  in- 
ordinate pride  in  certain  ornaments  which  are  probably 
derived  from  their  savage  progenitors. — A  woman  of  this 
country,  dressed  out  for  an  exhibition,  is  loaded  with  as 
many  ornaments  as  a  Circassian  slave  when  brought  out  for 
gale.  Their  heads  are  tricked  out  with  little  bits  of  horn  or 
shell,  cut  into  fantastic  shapes,  and  they  seem  to  emulate  each 
other  in  the  number  of  these  singular  baubles;  like  the 
women  we  have  seen  in  our  journeys  to  Aleppo,  who  cover 
their  heads  with  the  entire  shell  of  a  tortoise,  and,  thus 
equipped,  are  the  envy  of  all  their  less  fortunate  acquaint- 
ance. They  also  decorate  their  necks  and  ears  with  coral, 
gold  chains,  and  glass  beads,  and  load  their  fingers  with  a 
variety  of  rings;  though,  I  must  confess,  I  have  never  per- 
ceived that  they  wear  any  in  their  noses — as  has  been  affirmed 
by  many  travelers.  "We  have  heard  much  of  their  painting 
themselves  most  hideously,  and  making  use  of  bear's  grease 
in  great  profusion;  but  this,  I  solemnly  assure  thee,  is  a 
misrepresentation;  civilization,  no  doubt,  having  gradually 
extirpated  these  nauseous  practices.  It  is  true,  I  have  seen 
two  or  three  of  these  females  who  had  disguised  their  feat- 
ures with  paint,  but  then  it  was  merely  to  give  a  tinge  of 
red  to  their  cheeks,  and  did  not  look  very  frightful ;  and  as 
to  ointment,  they  rarely  use  any  now,  except  occasionally  a 
little  Grecian  oil  for  their  hair,  which  gives  it  a  glossy, 
greasy,  and,  they  think,  very  comely  appearance.  The  last 
mentioned  class  of  females,  I  take  it  for  granted,  have  been 
but  lately  caught,  and  still  retain  strong  traits  of  their 
original  savage  propensities. 

The  most  flagrant  and  inexcusable  fault,  however,  which 
I  find  hi  these  lovely  savages,  is  the  shameless  and  abandoned 
exposure  of  their  persons.  Wilt  not  thou  suspect  me  of  exag- 
geration when  I  affirm ;  wilt  thou  not  blush  for  them,  most 
discreet  Mussulman,  when  I  declare  to  thee  that  they  are  so 
lost  to  all  sense  of  modesty  as  to  expose  the  whole  of  their 
faces  from  their  forehead  to  the  chin,  and  they  even  go 


282  U/orl^s  of  U/astyfi^toi? 

abroad  with  their  hands  uncovered !  —  Monstrous  indeli^ 
cacy! 

But  what  I  am  going  to  disclose,  will,  doubtless,  appear 
to  thee  still  more  incredible.  Though  I  cannot  forbear  pay- 
ing a  tribute  of  admiration  to  the  beautiful  faces  of  these  fair 
infidels,  yet  I  must  give  it  as  my  firm  opinion  that  their  per- 
sons are  preposterously  unseemly.  In  vain  did  I  look  around 
me,  on  my  first  landing,  for  those  divine  forms  of  redundant 
proportions  which  answer  to  the  true  standard  of  eastern 
beauty.  Not  a  single  fat  fair  one  could  I  behold  among  the 
multitudes  that  thronged  the  streets ;  the  females  that  passed 
in  review  before  me,  tripping  sportively  along,  resembled  a 
procession  of  shadows,  returning  to  their  graves  at  the  crow- 
ing of  the  cock. 

This  meagerness  I  first  ascribed  to  their  excessive  volu« 
bility;  for  I  have  somewhere  seen  it  advanced  by  a  learned 
doctor  that  the  sex  were  endowed  with  a  peculiar  activity 
of  tongue,  in  order  that  they  might  practice  talking  as  a 
healthful  exercise,  necessary  to  their  confined  and  sedentary 
mode  of  life.  This  exercise,  it  was  natural  to  suppose,  would 
be  carried  to  great  excess  in  a  logocracy.  "Too  true," 
thought  I,  "they  have  converted  what  was  undoubtedly 
meant  as  a  beneficent  gift  into  a  noxious  habit,  that  steals 
the  flesh  from  their  bones  and  the  rose  from  their  cheeks — 
they  absolutely  talk  themselves  thin!"  Judge  then  of  my 
surprise  when  I  was  assured,  not  long  since,  that  this  meager- 
ness  was  considered  the  perfection  of  personal  beauty,  and 
that  many  a  lady  starved  herself,  with  all  the  obstinate  per- 
severance of  a  pious  dervise — into  a  fine  figure!  "Nay, 
more,*'  said  my  informer,  "they  will  often  sacrifice  their 
healths  in  this  eager  pursuit  of  skeleton  beauty,  and  drink 
yinegar,  eat  pickles,  and  smoke  tobacco  to  keep  themselves 
within  the  scanty  outlines  of  the  fashions."  Faugh!  Allah 
preserve  me  from  such  beauties,  who  contaminate  their  pure 
blood  with  noxious  recipes ;  who  impiously  sacrifice  the  best 
gifts  of  heaven  to  a  preposterous  and  mistaken  vanity.  Ere 
long  I  shall  not  be  surprised  to  see  them  scarring  their  faces 


283 

like  the  negroes  of  Congo,  flattening  their  noses  in  imitation 
of  the  Hottentots,  or,  like  the  barbarians  of  Ab-al  Timar, 
distorting  their  lips  and  ears  out  of  all  natural  dimensions.. 
Since  I  received  this  information  I  cannot  contemplate  a  fine 
figure  without  thinking  of  a  vinegar  cruet ;  nor  look  at  a 
dashing  belle  without  fancying  her  a  pot  of  pickled  cucum- 
bers !  What  a  difference,  my  friend,  between  these  shades 
and  the  plump  beauties  of  Tripoli !  what  a  contrast  between 
an  infidel  fair  one  and  my  favorite  wife  Fatima,  whom  I 
bought  by  the  hundredweight,  and  had  trundled  home  in  a 
wheelbarrow ! 

But  enough  for  the  present ;  I  am  promised  a  faithful 
account  of  the  arcana  of  a  lady's  toilet — a  complete  initia- 
tion into  the  arts,  mysteries,  spells,  and  potions;  in  short, 
the  whole  chemical  process  by  which  she  reduces  herself 
down  to  the  most  fashionable  standard  of  insignificance; 
together  with  specimens  of  the  strait-waistcoats,  the  lacings, 
the  bandages,  and  the  various  ingenious  instruments  with 
which  she  puts  nature  to  the  rack,  and  tortures  herself  into 
a  proper  figure  to  be  admired. 

Farewell,  thou  sweetest  of  slave-drivers!  the  echoes  that 
repeat  to  a  lover's  ear  the  song  of  his  mistress  are  not  more 
soothing  than  tidings  from  those  we  love.  Let  thy  answer 
to  my  letters  be  speedy ;  and  never,  I  pray  thee,  for  a  mo* 
ment,  cease  to  watch  over  the  prosperity  of  my  house  and 
the  welfare  of  my  beloved  wives.  Let  them  want  for  noth- 
ing, my  friend;  but  feed  them  plentifully  on  honey,  boiled 
rice,  and  water  gruel ;  so  that  when  I  return  to  the  blessed 
land  of  my  fathers,  if  that  can  ever  be !  I  may  find  them  im- 
proved in  size  and  loveliness,  and  sleek  as  the  graceful  ele> 
phants  that  range  the  green  valley  of  Abimar. 

Ever  thine, 


284  U/orks  of  U/aaljiij^toi)  Iruli)$ 


No.  XIX.— THURSDAY,  DECEMBER  31,  1807 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

HAVING  returned  to  town,  and  once  more  formally  taken 
possession  of  my  elbow-chair,  it  behooves  me  to  discard  the 
rural  feelings,  and  the  rural  sentiments,  in  which  I  have  for 
some  time  past  indulged,  and  devote  myself  more  exclusively 
to  the  edification  of  the  town.  As  I  feel  at  this  moment  a 
chivalric  spark  of  gallantry  playing  around  my  heart,  and 
one  of  those  dulcet  emotions  of  cordiality,  which  an  old 
bachelor  will  sometimes  entertain  toward  the  divine  sex,  I 
am  determined  to  gratify  the  sentiment  for  once,  and  devote 
this  number  exclusively  to  the  ladies.  I  would  not,  how- 
ever, have  our  fair  readers  imagine  that  we  wish  to  flatter 
ourselves  into  their  good  graces,  devoutly  as  we  adore  them ! 
And  what  true  cavalier  does  not?  And  heartily  as  we  desire 
to  flourish  in  the  mild  sunshine  of  their  smiles,  yet  we  scorn  to 
insinuate  ourselves  into  their  favor;  unless  it  be  as  honest 
friends,  sincere  well-wishers,  and  disinterested  advisers.  If 
in  the  course  of  this  number  they  find  us  rather  prodigal  of 
our  encomiums,  they  will  have  the  modesty  to  ascribe  it  to 
the  excess  of  their  own  merits.  If  they  find  us  extremely 
indulgent  to  their  faults,  they  will  impute  it  rather  to  the 
superabundance  of  our  good-nature  than  to  any  servile  and 
illiberal  fear  of  giving  offense. 

The  following  letter  of  Mustapha  falls  in  exactly  with  the 
current  of  my  purpose.  As  I  have  before  mentioned  that  his 
letters  are  without  dates  we  are  obliged  to  give  them  very 
irregularly,  without  any  regard  to  chronological  order. 

The  present  one  appears  to  have  been  written  not  long 
after  his  arrival,  and  antecedent  to  several  already  published. 
It  is  more  in  the  familiar  and  colloquial  style  than  the  others. 


Salma<$ui}di  285 

Will  "Wizard  declares  he  has  translated  it  with  fidelity,  ex« 
cepting  that  he  has  omitted  several  remarks  on  the  waltz, 
which  the  honest  Mussulman  eulogizes  with  great  enthu- 
siasm; comparing  it  to  certain  voluptuous  dances  of  the 
seraglio.  Will  regretted  exceedingly  that  the  indelicacy  of 
several  of  these  observations  compelled  their  total  exclusion, 
as  he  wishes  to  give  all  possible  encouragement  to  this  popular 
and  amiable  exhibition. 


LETTER  FROM  MUSTAPHA  RUB-A-DUB  KEL1 

KHAN, 

TO  MULEY  HELIM  AL  RAGGI,  SURNAMED  THE  AGREEABLE 

RAGAMUFFIN,    CHIEF  MOUNTEBANK    AND    BUFFA- 

DANCER  TO   HIS   HIGHNESS 

THE  numerous  letters  which  I  have  written  to  our  friend 
the  slave-driver,  as  well  as  those  to  thy  kinsman  "the  snorer," 
and  which,  doubtless,  were  read  to  thee,  honest  Muley,  have, 
in  all  probability,  awakened  thy  curiosity  to  know  further 
particulars  concerning  the  manners  of  the  barbarians  who 
hold  me  in  such  ignominious  captivity.  I  was  lately  at  one 
of  their  public  ceremonies,  which  at  first  perplexed  me  ex- 
ceedingly as  to  its  object;  but  as  the  explanations  of  a  friend 
have  let  me  somewhat  into  the  secret,  and  as  it  seems  to  bear 
no  small  analogy  to  thy  profession,  a  description  of  it  may 
contribute  to  thy  amusement,  if  not  to  thy  instruction. 

A  few  days  since,  just  as  I  had  finished  my  coffee,  and 
was  perfuming  my  whiskers  preparatory  to  a  morning  walk, 
I  was  waited  upon  by  an  inhabitant  of  this  place,  a  gay 
young  infidel  who  has  of  late  cultivated  my  acquaintance. 
He  presented  me  with  a  square  bit  of  painted  pasteboard, 
which,  he  informed  me,  would  entitle  me  to  admittance  to 
the  City  Assembly.  Curious  to  know  the  meaning  of  a 
phrase  which  was  entirely  new  to  me,  I  requested  an  ex- 
planation; when  my  friend  informed  me  that  the  assembly 


f»6  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$Coi>  IrulQf 

was  a  numerous  concourse  of  young  people  of  both  sexes, 
who,  on  certain  occasions,  gathered  together  to  dance  about 
a  large  room  with  violent  gesticulation,  and  try  to  out-dress 
each  other.  "In  short,"  said  he,  "if  you  wish  to  see  the 
natives  in  all  their  glory,  there's  no  place  like  the  City 
Assembly;  so  you  must  go  there  and  sport  your  whiskers." 
Though  the  matter  of  sporting  my  whiskers  was  considerably 
above  my  apprehension,  yet  I  now  began,  as  I  thought,  to 
understand  him.  I  had  heard  of  the  war  dances  of  the 
natives,  which  are  a  kind  of  religious  institution,  and  had 
little  doubt  but  that  this  must  be  a  solemnity  of  the  kind — 
upon  a  prodigious  great  scale.  Anxious  as  I  am  to  con- 
template these  strange  people  in  every  situation,  I  willingly 
acceded  to  his  proposal,  and,  to  be  the  more  at  ease,  I  de- 
termined to  lay  aside  my  Turkish  dress  and  appear  in  plain 
garments  of  the  fashion  of  this  country;  as  is  my  custom 
whenever  I  wish  to  mingle  in  a  crowd  without  exciting  the 
attention  of  the  gaping  multitude. 

It  was  long  after  the  shades  of  night  had  fallen  before 
my  friend  appeared  to  conduct  me  to  the  assembly,  "These 
infidels,"  thought  I,  "shroud  themselves  in  mystery,  and 
seek  the  aid  of  gloom  and  darkness,  to  heighten  the  solemnity 
of  their  pious  orgies.**  Resolving  to  conduct  myself  with 
that  decent  respect  which  every  stranger  owes  to  the  customs 
of  the  land  in  which  he  sojourns,  I  chastised  my  features 
into  an  expression  of  sober  reverence,  and  stretched  my  face 
into  a  degree  of  longitude  suitable  to  the  ceremony  I  was 
about  to  witness.  Spite  of  myself,  I  felt  an  emotion  of  awe 
stealing  over  my  senses  as  I  approached  the  majestic  pile. 
Hy  imagination  pictured  something  similar  to  a  descent  into 
the  cave  of  Dom-Daniel,  where  the  necromancers  of  the  East 
are  taught  their  infernal  arts.  I  entered  with  the  same 
gravity  of  demeanor  that  I  would  have  approached  the  holy 
temple  at  Mecca,  and  bowed  my  head  three  times  as  I  passed 
the  threshold.  "Head  of  the  mighty  Amrou  I"  thought  I, 
on  being  ushered  hi  to  a  splendid  saloon,  "what  a  display  is 
here !  Surely  I  am  transported  to  the  mansions  of  the  houris. 


287 

the  elysium  of  the  faithful!"  How  tame  appeared  all  the 
descriptions  of  enchanted  palaces  in  our  Arabian  poetry! 
Wherever  I  turned  my  eyes,  the  quick  glances  of  beauty 
dazzled  my  vision  and  ravished  my  heart;  lovely  virgins 
fluttered  by  me,  darting  imperial  looks  of  conquest,  or  beam- 
ing such  smiles  of  invitation  as  did  Gabriel  when  he  beck- 
oned our  holy  prophet  to  heaven.  Shall  I  own  the  weakness 
of  thy  friend,  good  Muley?  While  thus  gazing  on  the  en- 
chanted scene  before  me,  I,  for  a  moment,  forgot  my  coun~ 
try;  and  even  the  memory  of  my  three-and-twenty  wives 
faded  from  my  heart ;  my  thoughts  were  bewildered  and  led 
astray  by  the  charms  of  these  bewitching  savages,  and  I 
sunk,  for  a  while,  into  that  delicious  state  of  mind,  where 
the  senses,  all  enchanted  and  all  striving  for  mastery,  pro- 
duce an  endless  variety  of  tumultuous,  yet  pleasing  emotions. 
Oh,  Muley,  never  shall  I  again  wonder  that  an  infidel  should 
prove  a  recreant  to  the  single  solitary  wife  allotted  him, 
when  even  thy  friend,  armed  with  all  the  precepts  of  Ma- 
homet, can  so  easily  prove  faithless  to  three-and  twenty ! 

"Whither  have  you  led  me?"  said  I,  at  length,  to  my 
companion,  "and  to  whom  do  these  beautiful  creatures  be- 
kmg?  Certainly  this  must  be  the  seraglio  of  the  grand 
bashaw  of  the  city,  and  a  most  happy  bashaw  must  he  be, 
to  possess  treasures  which  even  his  highness  of  Tripoli  can- 
not parallel."  "Have  a  care,"  cried  my  companion,  "how 
you  talk  about  seraglios,  or  you'll  have  all  these  gentle 
nymphs  about  your  ears ;  for  seraglio  is  a  word  which,  be- 
yond all  others,  they  abhor.  Most  of  them,"  continued  he, 
"have  no  lord  and  master,  but  come  here  to  catch  one; 
they're  in  the  market,  as  we  term  it."  "Ah,  hah!"  said  I, 
exultingly,  "then  you  really  have  a  fair,  or  slave  market, 
such  as  we  have  in  the  East,  where  the  faithful  are  provided 
with  the  choicest  virgins  of  Georgia  and  Circassia?  By  our 
glorious  sun  of  Afric,  but  I  should  like  to  select  some  ten  or 
a  dozen  wives  from  so  lovely  an  assemblage !  Pray,  what 
would  you  suppose  they  might  be  bought  for?" 

Before  I  could  receive  an  answer,  my  attention  was  at- 


288  U/or^s  of 

tracted  by  two  or  three  good-looking,  middle-sized  men,  who, 
being  dressed  in  black,  a  color  universally  worn  in  this 
country  by  the  muftis  and  dervises,  I  immediately  concluded 
to  be  high-priests,  and  was  confirmed  in  my  original  opinion 
that  this  was  a  religious  ceremony.  These  reverend  person- 
ages are  entitled  managers,  and  enjoy  iinlimited  authority  in 
the  assemblies,  being  armed  with  swords,  with  which,  I  am 
told,  they  would  infallibly  put  any  lady  to  death  who  in- 
fringed the  laws  of  the  temple.  They  walked  round  the 
room  with  great  solemnity,  and,  with  an  air  of  profound  im- 
portance and  mystery,  put  a  little  piece  of  folded  paper  in 
each  fair  hand,  which  I  concluded  were  religious  talismans. 
One  of  them  dropped  on  the  floor,  whereupon  I  slyly  put  my 
foot  on  it,  and,  watching  an  opportunity,  picked  it  up  unob- 
served, and  found  it  to  contain  some  unintelligible  words  and 
the  mystic  number  9.  What  were  its  virtues  I  know  not ; 
except  that  I  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  have  hitherto  been 
preserved  from  my  fit  of  the  lumbago,  which  I  generally 
have  about  this  season  of  the  year,  ever  since  I  tumbled  into 
the  well  of  Zim-zim  on  my  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  I  inclose 
it  to  thee  in  this  letter,  presuming  it  to  be  particularly  ser- 
viceable against  the  dangers  of  thy  profession. 

Shortly  after  the  distribution  of  these  talismans,  one  of 
the  high-priests  stalked  into  the  middle  of  the  room  with 
great  majesty,  and  clapped  his  hands  three  times;  a  loud 
explosion  of  music  succeeded  from  a  number  of  black,  yellow, 
and  white  musicians,  perched  in  a  kind  of  cage  over  the 
grand  entrance.  The  company  were  thereupon  thrown  into 
great  confusion  and  apparent  consternation.  They  hurried 
to  and  fro  about  the  room,  and  at  length  formed  themselves 
into  little  groups  of  eight  persons,  half  male  and  half  female. 
The  music  struck  into  something  like  harmony,  and,  in  a 
moment,  to  my  utter  astonishment  and  dismay,  they  were 
all  seized  with  what  I  concluded  to  be  a  paroxysm  of  relig- 
ious frenzy,  tossing  about  their  heads  in  a  ludicrous  style 
from  side  to  side,  and  indulging  in  extravagant  contortions 
of  figure;  now  throwing  their  heels  into  the  air,  and  anon 


<di  289 

whirling  round  with  the  velocity  of  the  Eastern  idolaters,  who 
think  they  pay  a  grateful  homage  to  the  sun  by  imitating  his 
motions.  I  expected  every  moment  to  see  them  fall  down  in 
convulsions,  foam  at  the  mouth,  and  shriek  with  fancied 
inspiration.  As  usual  the  females  seemed  most  fervent  in 
their  religious  exercises,  and  performed  them  with  a  melan- 
choly expression  of  feature  that  was  peculiarly  touching;  but 
I  was  highly  gratified  by  the  exemplary  conduct  of  several 
male  devotees,  who,  though  their  gesticulations  would  in- 
timate a  wild  merriment  of  the  feelings,  maintained  through- 
out as  inflexible  a  gravity  of  countenance  as  so  many  mon- 
keys of  the  island  of  Borneo  at  their  antics. 

"And  pray,"  said  I,  "who  is  the  divinity  that  presides  in 
this  splendid  mosque?" — "The  divinity! — oh,  I  understand— 
you  mean  the  belle  of  the  evening;  we  have  a  new  one  every 
season.  The  one  at  present  in  fashion  is  that  lady  you  see 
yonder,  dressed  in  white,  with  pink  ribbons  and  a  crowd  of 
adorers  around  her."  "Truly,"  cried  I,  "this  is  the  pleas- 
antest  deity  I  have  encountered  in  the  whole  course  of  my 
travels;  so  familiar,  so  condescending,  and  so  merry  withal. 
Why,  her  very  worshipers  take  her  by  the  hand  and  whisper 
in  her  ear." — "My  good  Mussulman,"  replied  my  friend, 
with  great  gravity,  "I  perceive  you  are  completely  in  an 
error  concerning  the  intent  of  this  ceremony.  You  are  now 
in  a  place  of  public  amusement,  not  of  public  worship;  and 
the  pretty-looking  young  men  you  see  making  such  violent 
and  grotesque  distortions  are  merely  indulging  in  our  fav- 
orite amusement  of  dancing."  "I  cry  your  mercy,*'  ex- 
claimed I,  "these,  then,  are  the  dancing  men  and  women  of 
the  town,  such  as  we  have  in  our  principal  cities,  who  hire 
themselves  out  for  the  entertainment  of  the  wealthy;  but, 
pray,  who  pays  them  for  this  fatiguing  exhibition?"  My 
friend  regarded  me  for  a  moment  with  an  air  of  whimsical 
perplexity,  as  if  doubtful  whether  I  was  in  jest  or  earnest. 
"'Sblood,  man,"  cried  he,  "these  are  some  of  our  greatest 
people,  our  fashionables,  who  are  merely  dancing  here  for 
amusement/'  Dancing  for  amusement!  think  of  that, 

*  *  *  M  VOL.  V. 


290  U/orI<o  of 

Muley!  Thou,  whose  greatest  pleasure  is  to  chew  opium, 
smoke  tobacco,  loll  on  a  couch,  and  doze  thyself  into  the 
regions  of  the  houris!  Dancing  for  amusement!  Shah1  I 
never  cease  having  occasion  to  laugh  at  the  absurdities  of 
these  barbarians,  who  are  laborious  in  their  recreations,  and 
indolent  only  hi  their  hours  of  business?  Dancing  for  amuse- 
ment !  The  very  idea  makes  my  bones  ache,  and  I  never 
think  of  it  without  being  obliged  to  apply  my  handkerchief 
io  my  forehead  and  fan  myself  into  some  degree  of  coolness. 

"And  pray,"  said  I,  when  my  astonishment  had  a  little 
subsided,  "do  these  musicians  also  toil  for  amusement,  or 
are  they  confined  to  their  cage,  like  birds,  to  sing  for  the 
gratification  of  others?  I  should  think  the  former  was  the 
case,  from  the  animation  with  which  they  flourish  their 
elbows." — "Not  so,"  replied  my  friend,  "they  are  we!1,  paid, 
which  is  no  more  than  just,  for  I  assure  you  they  are  the 
most  important  personages  in  the  room.  The  fiddler  puts 
the  whole  assembly  in  motion,  and  directs  their  movements, 
like  the  master  of  a  puppet-show,  who  sets  all  his  pasteboard 
gentry  kicking  by  a  jerk  of  his  fingers.  There,  now — look 
at  that  dapper  little  gentleman  yonder,  who  appears  to  be 
suffering  the  pangs  of  dislocation  in  every  limb.  He  is  the 
most  expert  puppet  hi  the  room,  and  performs,  not  so  much 
for  his  own  amusement,  as  for  that  of  the  bystanlers."  Just 
then  the  little  gentleman,  having  finished  one  of  his  par- 
oxysms of  activity,  seemed  to  be  looking  round  for  applause 
from  the  spectators.  Feeling  myself  really  much  obliged  to 
him  for  his  exertions,  I  made  him  a  low  bow  of  thanks,  but 
nobody  followed  my  example,  which  I  thought  a  singular 
instance  of  ingratitude. 

Thou  wilt  perceive,  friend  Muley,  that  the  dancing  of 
these  barbarians  is  totally  different  from  the  science  professed 
by  thee  in  Tripoli ;  the  country,  in  fact,  IP  afflicted  by  numer- 
ous epidemical  diseases,  which  travel  from  house  to  house, 
from  city  to  city,  with  the  regularity  of  a  caravan.  Among 
these,  the  most  formidable  is  this  dancing  mania,  which  pre- 
vails chiefly  throughout  the  winter.  It  at  first  seized  on  a 


Sal/na$ui?dl  291 

few  people  of  fashion,  and,  being  indulged  in  moderation,  was 
a  cheerful  exercise ;  but  in  a  little  time,  by  quick  advances,  it 
infected  all  classes  of  the  community,  and  became  a  raging 
epidemic.  The  doctors  immediately,  as  is  their  usual  way, 
instead  of  devising  a  remedy,  fell  together  by  the  ears  to  de- 
cide whether  it  was  native  or  imported,  and  the  sticklers  for 
the  latter  opinion  traced  it  to  a  cargo  of  trumpery  from 
France,  as  they  had  before  hunted  down  the  yellow  fever  to 
a  bag  of  coffee  from  the  West  Indies.  What  makes  this  dis- 
ease the  more  formidable  is  that  the  patients  seem  infatuated 
vith  their  malady,  abandon  themselves  to  its  unbounded  rav- 
ages, and  expose  their  persons  to  wintry  storms  and  midnight 
airs,  more  fatal,  in  this  capricious  climate,  than  the  wither- 
ing simoom  blast  of  the  desert. 

I  know  not  whether  it  is  a  sight  most  whimsical  or  mel- 
ancholy to  witness  a  fit  of  this  dancing  malady.  The  lady 
hops  up  to  the  gentleman,  who  stands  at  the  distance  of  about 
three  paces,  and  then  capers  back  again  to  her  place ;  the 
gentleman  of  course  does  the  same;  then  they  skip  one  way, 
then  they  jump  another;  then  they  turn  their  backs  to  each 
other;  then  they  seize  each  other  and  shake  hands;  then  they 
whirl  round,  and  throw  themselves  into  a  thousand  grotesque 
and  ridiculous  attitudes;  sometimes  on  one  leg,  sometimes  on 
the  other,  and  sometimes  on  no  leg  at  all;  and  this  they  call 
exhibiting  the  graces !  By  the  nineteen  thousand  capers  of 
the  great  mountebank  of  Damascus,  but  these  graces  must 
be  something  like  the  crooked-backed  dwarf  Shabrac,  who  is 
sometimes  permitted  to  amuse  his  highness  by  imitating  the 
tricks  of  a  monkey.  These  fits  continue  at  short  intervals 
from  four  to  five  hours,  till  at  last  the  lady  is  led  off,  faint, 
languid,  exhausted,  and  panting,  to  her  carriage;  rattles 
home ;  passes  a  night  of  feverish  restlessness,  cold  perspira- 
tions and  troubled  sleep ;  rises  late  next  morning,  if  she  rises 
at  all,  is  nervous,  petulant,  or  a  prey  to  languid  indifference 
all  day ;  a  mere  household  specter,  neither  giving  nor  receiv- 
ing enjoyment;  in  the  evening  hurries  to  another  dance;  re- 
ceives an  unnatural  exhilaration  from  the  lights,  the  music, 


U/orl^s  of 

the  crowd,  and  the  unmeaning  bustle ;  flutters,  sparkles,  and 
blooms  for  a  while,  until,  the  transient  delirium  being  past, 
the  infatuated  maid  droops  and  languishes  into  apathy  again; 
is  again  led  off  to  her  carriage,  and  the  next  morning  rises  to 
go  through  exactly  the  same  joyless  routine. 

And  yet,  wilt  thou  believe  it,  my  dear  Raggi,  these  are 
rational  beings ;  nay,  more,  their  countrymen  would  fain  per- 
suade me  they  have  souls !  Is  it  not  a  thousand  times  to  be 
lamented  that  beings  endowed  with  charms  that  might  warm 
even  the  frigid  heart  of  a  dervise — with  social  and  endearing 
powers  that  would  render  them  the  joy  and  pride  of  the 
harem — should  surrender  themselves  to  a  habit  of  heartless 
dissipation,  which  preys  imperceptibly  on  the  roses  of  the 
cheek;  which  robs  the  eye  of  its  luster,  the  mouth  of  its 
dimpled  smile,  the  spirits  of  their  cheerful  hilarity,  and  the 
limbs  of  their  elastic  vigor;  which  hurries  them  off  in  the 
spring  -  time  of  existence ;  or,  if  they  survive,  yields  to 
the  arms  of  a  youthful  bridegroom  a  frame  wrecked  in  the 
storms  of  dissipation  and  struggling  with  premature  infirm- 
ity. Alas,  Muley !  may  I  not  ascribe  to  this  cause  the  num  - 
ber  of  little  old  women  I  meet  with  in  this  country,  from  the 
age  of  eighteen  to  eight-and-twenty? 

In  sauntering  down  the  room,  my  attention  was  attracted 
oy  a  smoky  painting,  which,  on  nearer  examination,  I  found 
consisted  of  two  female  figures  crowning  a  bust  with  a  wreath 
of  laurel.  "This,  I  suppose,"  cried  I,  "was  some  favorite 
dancer  in  his  time?" — "Oh,  no,"  replied  my  friend,  "he  was 
only  a  general." — "Good;  but  then  he  must  have  been  great 
at  a  cotilion,  or  expert  at  a  fiddlestick — or  why  is  his  memo- 
rial here?" — "Quite  the  contrary,"  answered  my  compan- 
ion, "history  makes  no  mention  of  his  ever  having  flourished 
a  fiddlestick,  or  figured  in  a  single  dance.  You  have,  no 
doubt,  heard  of  him ;  he  was  the  illustrious  Washington,  the 
father  and  deliverer  of  his  country ;  and,  as  our  nation  is 
remarkable  for  gratitude  to  great  men,  it  always  does  honor 
to  their  memory  by  placing  their  monuments  over  the  doors 
of  taverns  or  in  the  corners  of  dancing-rooms." 


Salmaqupdi  293 

From  thence  my  friend  and  I  strolled  into  a  small  apart- 
ment adjoining  the  grand  saloon,  where  I  beheld  a  number 
of  grave-looking  persons  with  venerable  gray  heads,  but 
without  beards,  which  I  thought  very  unbecoming,  seated 
around  a  table,  studying  hieroglyphics.  I  approached  them 
with  reverence,  as  so  many  magi,  or  learned  men,  endeavor- 
ing to  expound  the  mysteries  of  Egyptian  science;  several  of 
them  threw  down  money,  which  I  supposed  was  a  reward 
proposed  for  some  great  discovery,  when  presently  one  of 
them  spread  his  hieroglyphics  on  the  table,  exclaimed  tri- 
umphantly, "Two  bullets  and  a  bragger!"  and  swept  all  the 
money  into  his  pocket.  He  has  discovered  a  key  to  the  hiero- 
glyphics, thought  I.  Happy  mortal!  No  doubt  his  name 
will  be  immortalized.  "Willing,  however,  to  be  satisfied,  I 
looked  round  on  my  companion  with  an  inquiring  eye.  He 
understood  me,  and  informed  me  that  these  were  a  company 
of  friends  who  had  met  together  to  win  each  other's  money 
and  be  agreeable.  "Is  that  all?"  exclaimed  I;  "why,  then, 
I  pray  you,  make  way,  and  let  me  escape  from  this  temple 
of  abominations,  or  who  knows  but  these  people,  who  meet 
together  to  toil,  worry,  and  fatigue  themselves  to  death,  and 
give  it  the  name  of  pleasure;  and  who  win  each  other'* 
money  by  way  of  being  agreeable;  may  some  one  of  them 
taking  a  liking  to  me,  and  pick  my  pocket,  or  break  my  head 
in  a  paroxysm  of  hearty  good-will  I" 

Thy  friend,  MuSTAPHAo 


BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

Nunc  est  bibendum,  nunc  pede  libero 
Pulsanda  tettus.  — Hor. 

Now  is  the  tyme  for  wine  and  myrthful  sportes, 
For  daunce,  and  song,  and  disportes  of  syche  sortes. 

— Link.  Fid. 

THE  winter  campaign  has  opened.     Fashion  has  sum- 
moned her  numerous  legions  at  the  sound  of  trumpet,  tarn- 


£94  U/orl^s  of  U/=»sI?ii)$toi)  Irufpqi 

bourine  and  drum,  and  all  the  harmonious  minstrelsy  of  the 
orchestra,  to  hasten  from  the  dull,  silent  and  insipid  glades 
and  groves  where  they  have  vegetated  during  the  summer, 
recovering  from  the  ravages  of  the  last  winter's  campaign. 
Our  fair  ones  have  hurried  to  town,  eager  to  pay  their  devo- 
tions to  this  tutelary  deity,  and  to  make  an  offering  at  her 
shrine  of  the  few  pale  and  transient  roses  they  gathered  in 
their  healthful  retreat.  The  fiddler  rosins  his  bow,  the  card- 
table  devotee  is  shuffling  her  pack,  the  young  ladies  are  in- 
dustriously spangling  muslins,  and  the  tea-party  heroes  are 
airing  their  chapeaux  bras  and  pease-blossom  breeches,  to 
prepare  for  figuring  in  the  gay  circle  of  smiles,  and  graces, 
and  beauty.  Now  the  fine  lady  forgets  her  country  friends 
in  the  hurry  of  fashionable  engagements,  or  receives  the  sim- 
ple intruder,  who  has  foolishly  accepted  her  thousand  press- 
ing invitations,  with  such  politeness  that  the  poor  soul  deter- 
mines never  to  come  again;  now  the  gay  buck,  who  erst 
figured  at  Ballston,  and  quaffed  the  pure  spring,  exchanges 
the  sparkling  water  for  still  more  sparkling  champagne,  and 
deserts  the  nymph  of  the  fountain  to  enlist  under  the  stand- 
ard of  jolly  Bacchus.  In  short,  now  is  the  important  time  of 
the  year  in  which  to  harangue  the  bon-ton  reader;  and,  like 
some  ancient  hero  in  front  of  the  battle,  to  spirit  him  up  to 
deeds  of  noble  daring,  or  still  more  noble  suffering,  in  the 
yanks  of  fashionable  warfare. 

Such,  indeed,  has  been  my  intention;  but  the  number  of 
cases  which  have  lately  come  before  me,  and  the  variety  of 
complaints  I  have  received  from  a  crowd  of  honest  and  well- 
meaning  correspondents,  call  for  more  immediate  attention. 
A  host  of  appeals,  petitions,  and  letters  of  advice  are  now  be- 
fore me;  and  I  believe  the  shortest  way  to  satisfy  my  peti- 
tioners, memorialists,  and  advisers,  will  be  to  publish  their 
letters,  as  I  suspect  the  object  of  most  of  them  is  merely  to 
get  into  print. 


§alma<$ur)df  295 


TO  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

Sir:  As  you  appear  to  have  taken  to  yourself  the  trouble 
of  meddling  in  the  concerns  of  the  beau  monde,  I  take  the 
liberty  of  appealing  to  you  on  a  subject  which,  though  con- 
sidered merely  as  a  very  good  joke,  has  occasioned  me  great 
vexation  and  expense.  You  must  know  I  pride  myself  on 
being  very  useful  to  the  ladies;  that  is,  I  take  boxes  for 
them  at  the  theater,  go  shopping  with  them,  supply  them 
with  bouquets,  and  furnish  them  with  novels  from  the  circu- 
lating library.  In  consequence  of  these  attentions,  I  am  be- 
come a  great  favorite,  and  there  is  seldom  a  party  going  on 
in  the  city  without  my  having  an  invitation.  The  grievance 
I  have  to  mention  is  the  exchange  of  hats  which  takes  place 
on  these  occasions ;  for,  to  speak  my  mind  freely,  there  are 
certain  young  gentlemen  who  seem  to  consider  fashionable 
parties  as  mere  places  to  barter  old  clothes ;  and  I  am  in- 
formed that  a  number  of  them  manage,  by  this  great  system 
of  exchange,  to  keep  their  crowns  decently  covered  without 
their  hatter  suffering  in  the  least  by  it. 

It  was  but  lately  that  I  went  to  a  private  ball  with  a  new 
hat,  and  on  returning,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  evening,  and 
asking  for  it,  the  scoundrel  of  a  servant,  with  a  broad  grin, 
informed  me  that  the  new  hats  had  been  dealt  out  half  an 
hour  since,  and  they  were  then  on  the  third  quality;  and  I 
was  in  the  end  obliged  to  borrow  a  young  lady's  beaver 
rather  than  go  home  with  any  of  the  ragged  remnants  that 
were  left. 

Now  I  would  wish  to  know  if  there  is  no  possibility  of 
having  these  offenders  punished  by  law;  and  whether  it 
would  not  be  advisable  for  ladies  to  mention  in  their  cards 
of  invitation,  as  a  postscript,  "stealing  of  hats  and  shawls 
positively  prohibited."  At  any  rate  I  would  thank  you,  Mr. 
Evergreen,  to  discountenance  the  thing  totally,  by  publish- 
ing in  your  paper  that  stealing  a  hat  is  no  joke. 

Your  humble  servant,  WALTER  WITHERS. 


296  U/or^s  of  U/a»l?ip<Jtoi? 

My  correspondent  is  informed  that  the  police  have  deter- 
mined to  take  this  matter  into  consideration,  and  have  set 
apart  Saturday  mornings  for  the  cognizance  of  fashionable 
larcenies. 

MR.  EVERGREEN — Sir :  Do  you  think  a  married  woman 
may  lawfully  put  her  husband  right  in  a  story,  before 
strangers,  when  she  knows  him  to  be  in  the  wrong;  and 
can  anything  authorize  a  wife  in  the  exclamation  of — "Lord, 
my  dear,  how  can  you  say  so?"  MARGARET  TIMSON. 

DEAR  ANTHONY — Going  down  Broadway  this  morning 
in  a  great  hurry,  I  ran  full  against  an  object  which  at  first 
put  me  to  a  prodigious  nonplus.  Observing  it  to  be  dressed 
in  a  man's  hat,  a  cloth  overcoat  and  spatterdashes,  I  framed 
my  apology  accordingly,  exclaiming,  "My  dear  sir,  I  ask  ten 
thousand  pardons.  I  assure  you,  sir,  it  was  entirely  acci- 
dental. Pray  excuse  me,  sir,"  etc.  At  every  one  of  these 
excuses  the  thing  answered  me  with  a  downright  laugh ;  at 
which  I  was  not  a  little  surprised,  until,  on  resorting  to  my 
pocket-glass,  I  discovered  that  it  was  no  other  than  my  old 
acquaintance,  Clarinda  Trollop.  I  never  was  more  chagrined 
in  my  life ;  for,  being  an  old  bachelor,  I  like  to  appear  as  young 
as  possible,  and  am  always  boasting  of  the  goodness  of  my 
eyes.  I  beg  of  you,  Mr.  Evergreen,  if  you  have  any  feeling 
for  your  contemporaries,  to  discourage  this  hermaphrodite 
mode  of  dress,  for  really,  if  the  fashion  take,  we  poor  bach- 
elors will  be  utterly  at  a  loss  to  distinguish  a  woman  from  a 
man.  Pray  let  me  know  your  opinion,  sir,  whether  a  lady 
who  wears  a  man's  hat  and  spatterdashes  before  marriage 
may  not  be  apt  to  usurp  some  other  article  of  his  dress  after- 
ward. Your  humble  servant, 

RODERIC  WORRY. 

DEAR  MR.  EVERGREEN — The  other  night,  at  "Richard 
the  Third,"  I  sat  behind  three  gentlemen  who  talked  very 
loud  on  the  subject  of  Richard's  wooing  Lady  Ann  directly 


297 

in  the  face  of  his  crimes  against  that  lady.  One  of  them  de- 
clared such  an  unnatural  scene  would  be  hooted  at  in  China. 
Pray,  sir,  was  that  Mr.  Wizard?  SELINA  BADGER. 

P.S. — The  gentleman  I  allude  to  had  a  pocket-glass,  and 
wore  his  hair  fastened  behind  by  a  tortoise-shell  comb,  with 
two  teeth  wanting. 

MR.  EVERGRIN — Sir:  Being  a  little  curious  in  the  affairs 
oi  the  toilet,  I  was  much  interested  by  the  sage  Mustapha's 
remarks,  in  your  last  number,  concerning  the  art  of  manu- 
facturing a  modern  fine  lady.  I  would  have  you  caution 
your  fair  readers,  however,  to  be  very  careful  in  the  man- 
agement of  their  machinery;  as  a  deplorable  accident  hap- 
pened last  assembly,  in  consequence  of  the  architecture  of  a 
lady's  figure  not  being  sufficiently  strong.  In  the  middle 
of  one  of  the  cotilions,  the  company  was  suddenly  alarmed 
by  a  tremendous  crash  at  the  lower  end  of  the  room,  and,  on 
crowding  to  the  place,  discovered  that  it  was  a  fine  figure 
which  had  unfortunately  broken  down  from  too  great  exer- 
tion in  a  pigeon  wing.  By  great  good  luck  I  secured  the 
corset,  which  I  carried  home  hi  triumph;  and  the  next  morn- 
ing had  it  publicly  dissected,  and  a  lecture  read  on  it  at  Sur* 
geon's  Hall.  I  have  since  commenced  a  dissertation  on  the 
subject ;  in  which  I  shall  treat  of  the  superiority  of  those  fig- 
ures manufactured  by  steel,  stay-tape,  and  whale-bone,  to 
those  formed  by  Dame  Nature.  I  shall  show  clearly  that  the 
Venus  de*  Medicis  has  no  pretension  to  beauty  of  form,  as 
she  never  wore  stays,  and  her  waist  is  in  exact  proportion 
to  the  rest  of  her  body.  I  shall  inquire  into  the  mysteries 
of  compression,  and  how  tight  a  figure  can  be  laced  without 
danger  of  fainting;  and  whether  it  would  not  be  advisable 
for  a  lady,  when  dressing  for  a  ball,  to  be  attended  by  the 
family  physician,  as  culprits  are  when  tortured  on  the  rack, 
to  know  how  much  more  nature  will  endure.  I  shall  prove 
that  ladies  have  discovered  the  secret  of  that  notorious  jug- 
gler, who  offered  to  squeeze  himself  into  a  quart  bottle ;  and 


of 

I  shall  demonstrate,  to  the  satisfaction  of  every  fashionable 
reader,  that  there  is  a  degree  of  heroism  in  purchasing  a  pre- 
posterously slender  waist  at  the  expense  of  an  old  age  of 
decrepitude  and  rheumatics.  This  dissertation  shall  be  pub- 
lished as  soon  as  finished,  and  distributed  gratis  among  board- 
ing-school Tn?ylftTrig  and  all  worthy  matrons  who  are  ambi- 
tious that  their  daughters  should  sit  straight,  move  like 
clock-work,  and  "do  credit  to  their  bringing  up,"  In  the 
meantime,  I  have  hung  up  the  skeleton  of  the  corset  in  the 
museum,  beside  a  dissected  weasel  and  stuffed  alligator, 
where  it  may  be  inspected  by  all  those  naturalists  who  are 
fond  of  studying  the  "human  form  divine." 

Yours,  etc.  JULIAN  COGNOUS. 

P.S. — By  accurate  calculation  I  find  it  is  dangerous  for  a 
fine  figure,  when  full  dressed,  to  pronounce  a  word  of  more 
than  three  syllables.  Fine  Figure,  if  in  love,  may  indulge 
in  a  gentle  sigh;  but  a  sob  is  hazardous.  Fine  Figure  may 
smile  with  safety,  may  even  venture  as  far  as  a  giggle,  but 
must  never  risk  a  loud  laugh.  Figure  must  never  play  the 
part  of  a  confidante;  as  at  a  tea-party,  some  fine  evenings 
since,  a  young  lady,  whose  unparalleled  impalpability  of  waist 
was  the  envy  of  the  drawing-room,  burst  with  an  important 
secret,  and  had  three  ribs— of  her  corset! — fractured  on  the 
spot. 

MR.  EVEKGREEN — Sir:  I  am  one  of  those  industrious 
gemmen  who  labor  hard  to  obtain  currency  in  the  fashion- 
able world.  I  have  went  to  great  expense  in  little  boots, 
short  vests,  and  long  breeches;  my  coat  is  regularly  im- 
ported, per  stage  from  Philadelphia,  duly  insured  against 
all  risks,  and  my  boots  are  smuggled  from  Bond  Street.  I 
have  lounged  in  Broadway  with  one  of  the  most  crooked 
walking-sticks  I  could  procure,  and  have  sported  a  pair  of 
salmon-colored  small-clothes  and  flame-colored  stockings  at 
every  concert  and  ball  to  which  I  could  purchase  admission. 
Being  aff eared  that  I  might  possibly  appear  to  less  advantage 


299 

as  a  pedestrian,  in  consequence  of  my  being  rather  short  and 
a  little  bandy,  I  have  lately  hired  a  tall  horse,  with  cropped 
ears  and  a  cocked  tail,  on  which  I  have  joined  the  cavalcade 
of  pretty  gemmen  who  exhibit  bright  stirrups  every  fine  morn- 
ing in  Broadway  and  take  a  canter  of  two  miles  per  day,  at 
the  rate  of  three  hundred  dollars  per  annum.  But,  sir,  all 
this  expense  has  been  laid  out  in  vain,  for  I  can  scarcely 
get  a  partner  at  an  assembly,  or  an  invitation  to  a  tea-party. 
Pray,  sir,  inform  me  what  more  I  can  do  to  acquire  admis- 
sion into  the  true  stylish  circles,  and  whether  it  would  not 
be>  advisable  to  charter  a  curricle  for  a  month  and  have 
my  cipher  put  on  it,  as  is  done  by  certain  dashers  of  my 
acquaintance. 

Yours  to  serve,  MALVOLIO  DUBSTER 


TEA:    A  POEM 

FROM  THE  MILL  OF   PINDAR    COCKLOFT,    ESQ. 

And  earnestly  recommended  to  the  attention  of  all  Maidens  of  a 

certain  age 

OLD  Time,  my  dear  girls,  is  a  knave  who  in  truth 
From  the  fairest  of  beauties  will  pilfer  their  youth; 
"Who,  by  constant  attention  and  wily  deceit, 
Forever  is  coaxing  some  grace  to  retreat ; 
And,  like  crafty  seducer,  with  subtle  approach, 
The  further  indulged,  will  still  further  encroach. 
Since  this  "  thief  of  the  world"  has  made  off  with  your 

bloom, 

And  left  you  some  score  of  stale  years  in  its  room- 
Has  depriv'd  you  of  all  those  gay  dreams  that  would  dance 
In  your  brains  at  fifteen,  and  your  bosoms  entrance; 
And  has  forc'd  you  almost  to  renounce,  in  despair, 
The  hope  of  a  husband's  affection  and  care— 
Since  such  is  the  case,  and  a  case  rather  hard! 
Permit  one  who  holds  you  in  special  regard 


of 

To  furnish  such  hints  in  your  loveless  estate 
As  may  shelter  your  names  from  distraction  and  hate. 
Too  often  our  maidens,  grown  aged,  I  ween, 
Indulge  to  excess  in  the  workings  of  spleen ; 
And  at  times,  when  annoy 'd  by  the  slights  of  mankind, 
Work  off  their  resentment — by  speaking  their  mind : 
Assemble  together  in  snuff-taking  clan, 
And  hold  round  the  tea-urn  a  solemn  divan. 
A  convention  of  tattling — a  tea-party  hight, 
Which,  like  meeting  of  witches,  is  brew'd  up  at  night : 
Where  each  matron  arrives,  fraught  with  tales  of  surprise. 
With  knowing  suspicion  and  doubtful  surmise; 
Like  the  broomstick  whirPd  hags  that  appear  in  "Mac- 
beth," 

Each  bearing  some  relic  of  venom  or  death, 
"To  stir  up  the  toil  and  to  double  the  trouble, 
That  fire  may  burn,  and  that  caldron  may  bubble." 

When  the  party  commences,  all  starch'd  and  all  glum, 
They  talk  of  the  weather,  their  corns,  or  sit  mum : 
They  will  tell  you  of  cambric,  of  ribbons,  of  lace, 
How  cheap  they  were  sold — and  will  name  you  the  place. 
They  discourse  of  their  colds,  and  they  hem  and  they  cough, 
And  complain  of  their  servants  to  pass  the  tune  off; 
Or  list  to  the  tale  of  some  doting  mamma 
How  her  ten  weeks'  old  baby  will  laugh  and  say  taat 

But  tea,  that  enlivener  of  wit  and  of  soul — 
More  loquacious  by  far  than  the  draughts  of  the  bowl, 
Soon  unloosens  the  tongue  and  enlivens  the  mind, 
And  enlightens  their  eyes  to  the  faults  of  mankind. 

'Twas  thus  with  the  Pythia,  who  served  at  the  fount 
That  flow'd  near  the  far-famed  Parnassian  mount, 
While  the  steam  was  inhal'd  of  the  sulphuric  spring, 
Her  vision  expanded,  her  fancy  took  whig; 
By  its  aid  she  pronounced  the  oracular  will 
That  Apollo  commanded  his  sons  to  fulfill. 
But  alast  the  sad  vestal,  performing  the  rite, 
Appeared  like  a  demon — terrific  to  sight. 


E*en  the  priests  of  Apollo  averted  their  eyes, 
And  the  temple  of  Delphi  resounded  her  cries. 
But  quitting  the  nymph  of  the  tripod  of  yore, 
We  return  to  the  dames  of  the  teapot  once  more. 

In  harmless  chit-chat  an  acquaintance  they  roast, 
And  serve  up  a  friend,  as  they  serve  up  a  toast ; 
Some  gentle  faux  pas,  or  some  female  mistake, 
Is  like  sweetmeats  delicious,  or  relished  as  cake; 
A  bit  of  broad  scandal  is  like  a  dry  crust, 
It  would  stick  in  the  throat,  so  they  butter  it  firsfc 
With  a  little  affected  good-nature,  and  cry, 
"Nobody  regrets  the  thing  deeper  than  I." 
Our  young  ladies  nibble  a  good  name  hi  play 
As  for  pastime  they  nibble  a  biscuit  away : 
While  with  shrugs  and  surmises,  the  toothless  old 
A.S  she  mumbles  a  crust  she  will  mumble  a  name. 
And  as  the  fell  sisters  astonished  the  Scot, 
In  predicting  of  Banquo's  descendants  the  lot, 
Making  shadows  of  kings,  amid  flashes  of  light, 
To  appear  in  array  and  to  frown  in  his  sight, 
§o  they  conjure  up  specters  all  hideous  in  hue, 
Which,  as  shades  of  their  neighbors,  are  passed  in  review, 

The  wives  of  our  cits  of  inferior  degree 
Will  soak  up  repute  in  a  little  bohea; 
The  potion  is  vulgar,  and  vulgar  the  slang 
With  which  on  their  neighbors'1  defects  they  harangue  | 
But  the  scandal  improves,  a  refinement  in  wrong  I 
As  our  matrons  are  richer  and  rise  to  souchong. 
With  hyson — a  beverage  that's  still  more  refin'd, 
Our  ladies  of  fashion  enliven  their  mind, 
And  by  nods,  innuendoes,  and  hints,  and  what  no^ 
Reputations  and  tea  send  together  to  pot. 
While  madam  in  cambrics  and  laces  array'd, 
With  her  plate  and  her  liveries  in  splendid  parade* 
Will  drink  in  imperial  a  friend  at  a  sup, 
Or  in  gunpowder  blow  them  by  dozens  all  up. 
Ah  me !  how  I  groan  when  with  full  swelling  safl 


802  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)<$toi) 

Wafted  stately  along  by  the  favoring  gale, 
A  China  ship  proudly  arrives  in  our  bay, 
Displaying  her  streamers  and  blazing  away. 
Oh!  more  fell  to  our  port  is  the  cargo  she  bears 
Than  grenadoes,  torpedoes,  or  warlike  affairs : 
Each  chest  is  a  bombshell  thrown  into  our  town 
To  shatter  repute  and  bring  character  down. 

Ye  Samquas,  ye  Chinquas,  Chouquas,  so"  free, 
Who  discharge  on  our  coast  your  cursed  quantums  of  tea, 
Oh  think,  as  ye  waft  the  sad  weed  from  your  strand, 
Of  the  plagues  and  vexations  ye  deal  to  our  land. 
As  the  Upas'  dread  breath,  o'er  the  plain  where  it  flies, 
Empoisons  and  blasts  each  green  blade  that  may  rise, 
So,  wherever  the  leaves  of  your  shrub  find  their  way, 
The  social  affections  soon  suffer  decay : 
Like  to  Java's  drear  waste  they  embarren  the  heart, 
Till  the  blossoms  of  love  and  of  friendship  depart. 

Ah,  ladies,  and  was  it  by  Heaven  design'd 
That  ye  should  be  merciful,  loving  and  kind! 
Did  it  form  you  like  angels,  and  send  you  below 
To  prophesy  peace — to  bid  charity  flow! 
And  have  ye  thus  left  your  primeval  estate, 
And  wandered  so  widely — so  strangely  of  late? 
Alas!  the  sad  cause  I  too  plainly  can  see— 
These  evils  have  all  come  upon  you  through  tea! 
Cursed  weed,  that  can  make  our  fair  spirits  resign 
The  character  mild  of  their  mission  divine; 
That  can  blot  from  their  bosoms  that  tenderness  true, 
Which  from  female  to  female  forever  is  due! 
Oh,  how  nice  is  the  texture — how  fragile  the  frame 
Of  that  delicate  blossom,  a  female's  fair  fame  I 
*Tis  the  sensitive  plant,  it  recoils  from  the  breath 
And  shrinks  from  the  touch  as  if  pregnant  with  death, 
How  often,  how  often,  has  innocence  sigh'd; 
Has  beauty  been  reft  of  its  honor — its  pride; 
Has  virtue,  though  pure  as  an  angel  of  light, 
Been  painted  as  dark  as  a  demon  of  nights 


303 


All  offer'd  up  victims,  an  auto-da-f6, 

At  the  gloomy  cabals  —  the  dark  orgies  of  tea! 

If  I,  in  the  remnant  that's  left  me  of  life, 
Am  to  suffer  the  torments  of  slanderous  strife, 
Let  me  fall,  I  implore,  in  the  slang-whanger's  claw, 
"Where  the  evil  is  open,  and  subject  to  law. 
Not  nibbled,  and  mumbled,  and  put  to  the  rack 
By  the  sly  underminings  of  tea-party  clack  : 
Condemn  me,  ye  gods,  to  a  newspaper  roasting, 
But  spare  me!  oh,  spare  me,  a  tea-table  toasting! 


No.    XX.— MONDAY,   JANUARY   25,    1808 


FROM  MY  ELBOW-CHAIR 

Extremum  hunc  mihi  concede  laborem. — Vino. 
"Soft  you,  a  word  or  two  before  we  part." 

IN  this  season  of  festivity,  when  the  gate  of  time  swings 
open  on  its  hinges,  and  an  honest  rosy-faced  New  Year  comes 
waddling  in,  like  a  jolly  fat-sided  alderman,  loaded  with  good 
wishes,  good  humor,  and  minced  pies;  at  this  joyous  era  it 
has  been  the  custom,  from  time  immemorial,  in  this  ancient 
and  respectable  city,  for  periodical  writers,  from  reverend, 
grave,  and  potent  essayists  like  ourselves !  down  to  the  hum- 
ble but  industrious  editors  of  magazines,  reviews,  and  news- 
papers, to  tender  their  subscribers  the  compliments  of  the 
season ;  and  when  they  have  slyly  thawed  their  hearts  with 
a  little  of  the  sunshine  of  flattery,  to  conclude  by  delicately 
dunning  them  for  their  arrears  of  subscription  money.  In 
like  manner  the  carriers  of  newspapers,  who  undoubtedly  be- 
long to  the  ancient  and  honorable  order  of  literati,  do  regu- 
larly, at  the  commencement  of  the  year,  salute  their  patrons 
with  abundance  of  excellent  advice,  conveyed  in  exceeding 
good  poetry,  for  which  the  aforesaid  good-natured  patrons 


304  U/orl^8  of  U/asl?ii?$toi)  Iruli?? 

are  well  pleased  to  pay  them  exactly  twenty-five  cents.  In 
walking  the  streets  I  am  every  day  saluted  with  good  wishes 
from  old  gray-headed  negroes,  whom  I  never  recollect  to 
have  seen  before ;  and  it  was  but  a  few  days  ago  that  I  was 
called  to  receive  the  compliments  of  an  ugly  old  woman,  who 
last  spring  was  employed  by  Mrs.  Cockloft  to  whitewash  my 
room  and  put  things  in  order ;  a  phrase  which,  if  rightly  un- 
derstood, means  little  else  than  huddling  everything  into 
holes  and  corners,  so  that  if  I  want  to  find  any  particulai 
article,  it  is,  hi  the  language  of  a  humble  but  expressive 
Baying,  "Looking  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack. "  Not  recog- 
nizing my  visitor;  I  demanded  by  what  authority  she  wished 
me  a  "Happy  New  Year"?  Her  claim  was  one  of  the  weak- 
est she  could  have  urged,  for  I  have  an  innate  and  mortal 
antipathy  to  this  custom  of  putting  things  to  rights ;  so  giv- 
ing the  old  witch  a  pistareen,  I  desired  her  forthwith  to 
mount  her  broomstick  and  ride  off  as  fast  as  possible. 

Of  all  the  various  ranks  of  society,  the  bakers  alone,  to 
their  immortal  honor  be  it  recorded,  depart  from  this  prac- 
tice of  making  a  market  of  congratulations ;  and,  in  addition 
to  always  allowing  thirteen  to  the  dozen,  do  with  great  lib- 
erality, instead  of  drawing  on  the  purses  of  their  customers 
at  the  New  Year,  present  them  with  divers  large,  fair,  spiced 
cakes;  which,  like  the  shield  of  Achilles,  or  an  Egyptian 
obelisk,  are  adorned  with  figures  of  a  variety  of  strange  ani- 
mals, that,  in  their  conformation,  outmarvel  all  the  wild 
wonders  of  nature. 

This  honest  graybeard  custom  of  setting  apart  a  certain 
portion  of  this  good-for-nothing  existence  for  the  purposes  of 
cordiality,  social  merriment,  and  good  cheer,  is  one  of  the 
inestimable  relics  handed  down  to  us  from  our  worthy  Dutch 
ancestors.  In  perusing  one  of  the  manuscripts  from  my 
worthy  grandfather's  mahogany  chest  of  drawers,  I  find 
the  new  year  was  celebrated  with  great  festivity  during  that 
golden  age  of  our  city  when  the  reins  of  government  were 
held  by  the  renowned  Rip  Van  Dam,  who  always  did  honor 
to  the  season  by  seeing  out  the  old  year;  a  ceremony  which 


Salma$ui?d!  305 

consisted  in  plying  his  guests  with  bumpers  until  not  one  of 
them  was  capable  of  seeing.  " Truly,"  observes  my  grand- 
father, who  was  generally  of  these  parties — "Truly,  he  was 
a  most  stately  and  magnificent  burgomaster!  inasmuch  as  he 
did  right  lustily  carouse  it  with  his  friends  about  New  Year; 
roasting  huge  quantities  of  turkeys;  baking  innumerable 
minced  pies ;  and  smacking  the  lips  of  all  fair  ladies  the  which 
he  did  meet  with  such  sturdy  emphasis  that  the  same  might 
have  been  heard  the  distance  of  a  stone's  throw."  In  his 
days,  according  to  my  grandfather,  were  first  invented  these 
notable  cakes,  hight  new  year  cookies,  which  originally  were 
impressed  on  one  side  with  the  honest,  burly  countenance  of 
the  illustrious  Rip,  and  on  the  other  with  that  of  the  noted 
St.  Nicholas,  vulgarly  called  Santaclaus — of  all  the  saints  in 
the  calendar  the  most  venerated  by  true  Hollanders  and 
their  unsophisticated  descendants.  These  cakes  are  to  this 
time  given  on  the  first  of  January  to  all  visitors,  together 
with  a  glass  of  cherry- bounce,  or  raspberry-brandy.  It  is 
with  great  regret,  however,  I  observe  that  the  simplicity  of 
this  venerable  usage  has  been  much  violated  by  modern  pre- 
tenders to  style!  and  our  respectable  new  year  cookies  and 
cherry-bounce  elbowed  aside  by  plum-cake  and  outlandish 
liqueurs,  in  the  same  way  that  our  worthy  old  Dutch  families 
are  outdazzled  by  modern  upstarts  and  mushroom  cockneys. 
In  addition  to  this  divine  origin  of  new  year  festivity, 
there  is  something  exquisitely  grateful,  to  a  good-natured 
mind,  in  seeing  every  face  dressed  in  smiles;  in  hearing  the 
oft-repeated  salutations  that  flow  spontaneously  from  the 
heart  to  the  lips;  in  beholding  the  poor,  for  once,  enjoying 
the  smiles  of  plenty,  and  forgetting  the  cares  which  press 
hard  upon  them  in  the  jovial  revelry  of  the  feelings;  the 
young  children  decked  out  in  their  Sunday  clothes  and  freed 
from  their  only  cares,  the  cares  of  the  school,  tripping  through 
the  streets  on  errands  of  pleasure;  and  even  the  very  negroes, 
those  holiday-loving  rogues,  gorgeously  arrayed  in  cast-off 
finery,  collected  in  juntos,  at  corners,  displaying  their  white 
teeth,  and  making  the  welkin  ring  with  bursts  of  laughter— 


308  U/orl^g  of  U/asl?ii?$toi?  Irvfr?$ 

loud  enough  to  crack  even  the  icy  cheek  of  old  winter.  There 
is  something  BO  pleasant  in  all  this  that  I  confess  it  would 
give  me  real  pain  to  behold  the  frigid  influence  of  modern 
style  cheating  us  of  this  jubilee  of  the  heart;  and  converting 
it,  as  it  does  every  other  article  of  social  intercourse,  into  an 
idle  and  unmeaning  ceremony.  'Tis  the  annual  festival  of 
good-humor;  it  comes  in  the  dead  of  winter,  when  nature  is 
without  a  charm,  jv^hen  our  pleasures  are  contracted  to  the 
fireside,  and  where  everything  that  unlocks  the  icy  fetters 
of  the  heart,  and  sets  the  genial  current  flowing,  should  be 
cherished,  as  a  stray  lamb  found  in  the  wilderness,  or  a 
flower  blooming  among  thorns  and  briers. 

Animated  by  these  sentiments,  it  is  with  peculiar  satis- 
faction I  perceived  that  the  last  New  Year  was  kept  with 
more  than  ordinary  enthusiasm.  It  seemed  as  if  the  good 
old  times  had  rolled  back  again  and  brought  with  them  all 
the  honest,  unceremonious  intercourse  of  those  golden  days, 
when  people  were  more  open  and  sincere,  more  moral,  and 
more  hospitable  than  now;  when  every  object  carried  about 
it  a  charm  which  the  hand  of  time  has  stolen  away  or  turned 
to  a  deformity;  when  the  women  were  more  simple,  more 
domestic,  more  lovely,  and  more  true;  and  when  even  the 
Bun,  like  a  hearty  old  blade  as  he  is,  shone  with  a  genial 
luster  unknown  in  these  degenerate  days.  In  short,  those 
fairy  times,  when  I  was  a  madcap  boy,  crowding  every  en- 
joyment into  the  present  moment ;  making  of  the  past  a*, 
oblivion,  of  the  future  a  heaven,  and  careless  of  all  that 
was  "over  the  hills  and  far  away."  Only  one  thing  was 
wanting  to  make  every  part  of  the  celebration  accord  with 
its  ancient  simplicity.  The  ladies,  who — I  write  it  witk  the 
most  piercing  regret — are  generally  at  the  head  of  all  domes- 
tic innovations,  most  fastidiously  refused  that  mark  of  good- 
will, that  chaste  and  holy  salute  which  was  so  fashionable  in 
the  happy  days  of  Governor  Rip  and  the  patriarchs.  Even 
the  Misses  Cockloft,  who  belong  to  a  family  that  is  the  last 
entrenchment  behind  which  the  manners  of  the  good  old 
school  have  retired,  made  violent  opposition;  and  whenever 


307 

a  gentleman  entered  the  room  immediately  put  themselves 
in  a  posture  of  defense.  This,  Will  Wizard,  with  his  usual 
shrewdness,  insists  was  only  to  give  the  visitor  a  hint  that 
they  expected  an  attack ;  and  declares  he  has  uniformly  ob- 
served that  the  resistance  of  those  ladies  who  make  the 
greatest  noise  and  bustle  is  most  easily  overcome.  This  sad 
innovation  originated  with  my  good  aunt  Charity,  who  was 
as  arrant  a  tabby  as  ever  wore  whiskers;  and  I  am  not  a 
little  afflicted  to  find  that  she  has  found  so  many  followers, 
even  among  the  young  and  beautiful. 

In  compliance  with  an  ancient  and  venerable  custom, 
sanctioned  by  time  and  our  ancestors,  and  more  especially 
by  my  own  inclinations,  I  will  take  this  opportunity  to  salute 
my  readers  with  as  many  good  wishes  as  I  can  possibly  spare; 
for,  in  truth,  I  have  been  so  prodigal  of  late  that  I  have  but 
few  remaining.  I  should  have  offered  my  congratulations 
sooner;  but,  to  be  candid,  having  made  the  last  New  Year*s 
campaign,  according  to  custom,  under  Cousin  Christopher, 
in  which  I  have  seen  some  pretty  hard  service,  my  head  has 
been  somewhat  out  of  order  of  late,  and  my  intellects  rather 
cloudy  for  clear  writing.  Besides,  I  may  allege  as  another 
reason  that  I  have  deferred  my  greetings  until  this  day* 
which  is  exactly  one  year  since  we  introduced  ourselves  to 
the  public;  and  surely  periodical  writers  have  the  same  right 
of  dating  from  the  commencement  of  their  works  that  mon- 
archs  have  from  the  time  of  their  coronation,  or  our  most 
puissant  republic  from  the  declaration  of  its  independence. 

These  good  wishes  are  warmed  into  more  than  usual 
benevolence  by  the  thought  that  I  am  now,  perhaps,  address- 
ing my  old  friends  for  the  last  time.  That  we  should  thus 
cut  off  our  work  in  the  very  vigor  of  its  existence  may  excite 
some  little  matter  of  wonder  in  this  enlightened  community. 
Now,  though  we  could  give  a  variety  of  good  reasons  for  so 
doing,  yet  it  would  be  an  ill-natured  act  to  deprive  the  public 
cf  such  an  admirable  opportunity  to  indulge  in  their  favorite 
amusement  of  conjecture :  so  we  generously  leave  them  to 
flounder  in  the  smooth  ocean  of  glorious  uncertainty,  Besides, 


308  U/or^s  of  U/asI?ii}$toi)  Irutqq 

we  have  ever  considered  it  as  beneath  persons  of  our  dignity 
to  account  for  our  movements  or  caprices.  Thank  Heaven, 
we  are  not,  like  the  unhappy  rulers  of  this  enlightened  land, 
accountable  to  the  mob  for  our  actions  or  dependent  on  their 
smiles  for  support!  This  much,  however,  we  will  say,  it  is 
not  for  want  of  subjects  that  we  stop  our  career.  We  are 
not  in  the  situation  of  poor  Alexander  the  Great,  who  wept, 
as  well  indeed  he  might,  because  there  were  no  more  worlds 
to  conquer 5  for,  to  do  justice  to  this  queer,  odd,  rantipole 
city  and  this  whimsical  country,  there  is  matter  enough  hi 
them  to  keep  our  risible  muscles  and  our  pens  going  until 
doomsday. 

Most  people,  in  taking  a  farewell  which  may,  perhaps,  be 
forever,  are  anxious  to  part  on  good  terms;  and  it  is  usual, 
on  such  melancholy  occasions,  for  even  enemies  to  shake 
hands,  forget  their  previous  quarrels,  and  bury  all  former 
animosities  in  parting  regrets.  Now,  because  most  people 
do  this,  I  am  determined  to  act  in  quite  a  different  way ;  for, 
as  I  have  lived,  so  I  should  wish  to  die  in  my  own  way,  with- 
out imitating  any  person,  whatever  may  be  his  rank,  talents, 
or  reputation.  Besides,  if  I  know  our  trio,  we  have  no  enmi- 
ties to  obliterate,  no  hatchet  to  bury,  and  as  to  all  injuries — 
those  we  have  long  since  forgiven.  At  this  moment  there  is 
not  an  individual  in  the  world,  not  even  the  Pope  himself,  to 
whom  we  have  any  personal  hostility.  But  if,  shutting  their 
eyes  to  the  many  striking  proofs  of  good-nature  displayed 
through  the  whole  course  of  this  work,  there  should  be  any 
persons  so  singularly  ridiculous  as  to  take  offense  at  our 
strictures,  we  heartily  forgive  their  stupidity;  earnestly  en- 
treating them  to  desist  from  all  manifestations  of  ill-humor, 
lest  they  should,  peradventure,  be  classed  under  some  one  of 
the  denominations  of  recreants  we  have  felt  it  our  duty  to 
hold  up  to  public  ridicule.  Even  at  this  moment  we  feel  a 
glow  of  parting  philanthropy  stealing  upon  us;  a  sentiment 
of  cordial  good- will  toward  the  numerous  host  of  readers  that 
have  jogged  on  at  our  heels  during  the  last  year;  and,  in 
justice  to  ourselves,  must  seriously  protest  that,  if  at  any 


309 

time  we  have  treated  them  a  little  tragently,  it  was  purely 
in  that  spirit  of  hearty  affection  with  which  a  schoolmaster 
drubs  an  unlucky  urchin,  or  a  humane  muleteer  his  recreant 
animal,  at  the  very  moment  when  his  heart  is  brimful  of  lov- 
ing-kindness. If  this  is  not  considered  an  ample  justifica- 
tion, so  much  the  worse;  for  in  that  case  I  fear  we  shall  re- 
main forever  unjustified;  a  most  desperate  extremity,  and 
worthy  of  every  man's  commiseration ! 

One  circumstance  in  particular  has  tickled  us  mightily 
as  we  jogged  along,  and  that  is  the  astonishing  secrecy  witk 
which  we  have  been  able  to  carry  on  our  lucubrations!  Fully 
aware  of  the  profound  sagacity  of  the  public  of  Gotham,  and 
their  wonderful  faculty  of  distinguishing  a  writer  by  his  style, 
it  is  with  great  self -congratulation  we  find  that  suspicion  has 
never  pointed  to  us  as  the  authors  of  Salmagundi.  Our  gray 
beard  speculations  have  been  most  bountifully  attributed  to 
sundry  smart  young  gentlemen,  who,  for  aught  we  know, 
have  no  beards  at  all ;  and  we  have  often  been  highly  amused, 
when  they  were  charged  with  the  sin  of  writing  what  their 
harmless  minds  never  conceived,  to  see  them  affect  all  the 
blushing  modesty  and  beautiful  embarrassment  of  detected 
virgin  authors.  The  profound  and  penetrating  public,  hav- 
ing so  long  been  led  away  from  truth  and  nature  by  a  con- 
stant perusal  of  those  delectable  histories  and  romances  from 
beyond  seas,  in  which  human  nature  is  for  the  most  part 
wickedly  mangled  and  debauched,  have  never  once  imagined 
this  work  was  a  genuine  and  most  authentic  history;  that 
the  Cocklofts  were  a  real  family,  dwelling  in  the  city;  pay- 
ing scot  and  lot,  entitled  to  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  holding 
several  respectable  offices  in  the  corporation.  As  little  do 
they  suspect  that  there  is  a  knot  of  merry  old  bachelors  seated 
snugly  hi  the  old-fashioned  parlor  of  an  old-fashioned  Dutch 
house,  with  a  weathercock  on  the  top  that  came  from  Hol- 
land, who  amuse  themselves  of  an  evening  by  laughing  at 
their  neighbors  in  an  honest  way,  and  who  manage  to  jog  on 
through  the  streets  of  our  ancient  and  venerable  city  without 
elbowing  or  being  elbowed  by  A.  living  soul. 


810  HforK*  of  U/a8l?ifi?$tO!>  /ruli?? 

When  we  first  adopted  the  idea  of  discontinuing  this  work, 
we  determined,  in  order  to  give  the  critics  a  fair  opportunity 
for  dissection,  to  declare  ourselves,  one  and  all,  absolutely 
defunct;  for  it  is  one  of  the  rare  and  invaluable  privileges 
of  a  periodical  writer  that  by  an  act  of  innocent  suicide  he 
may  lawfully  consign  himself  to  the  grave  and  cheat  the 
world  of  posthumous  renown.  But  we  abandoned  this 
scheme  for  many  substantial  reasons.  In  the  first  place, 
we  care  bnt  little  for  the  opinion  of  critics,  who  we  consider 
a  kind  of  freebooters  in  the  republic  of  letters;  who,  like  deer, 
goats,  and  divers  other  graminivorous  animals,  gain  subsist- 
ence by  gorging  upon  the  buds  and  leaves  of  the  young 
shrubs  of  the  forest,  thereby  robbing  them  of  then*  verdure 
and  retarding  their  progress  to  maturity.  It  also  occurred 
to  us  that,  though  an  author  might  lawfully  in  all  countries 
kill  himself  outright,  yet  this  privilege  did  not  extend  to  the 
raising  himself  from  the  dead,  if  he  was  ever  so  anxious;  and 
all  that  is  left  him  in  such  a  case  is  to  take  the  benefit  of  the 
metempsychosis  act  and  revive  under  a  new  name  and  form. 

Far  be  it,  therefore,  from  us  to  condemn  ourselves  to  use- 
less embarrassments,  should  we  ever  be  disposed  to  resume 
the  guardianship  of  this  learned  city  of  Gotham,  and  finish 
this  invaluable  work,  which  is  yet  but  half  completed.  We 
hereby  openly  and  seriously  declare  that  we  are  not  dead, 
but  intend,  if  it  pleases  Providence,  to  live  for  many  years 
to  come;  to  enjoy  life  with  the  genuine  relish  of  honest  souls; 
careless  of  riches,  honors,  and  everything  but  a  good  name, 
among  good  fellows;  and  with  the  full  expectation  of  shuffling 
off  the  remnant  of  existence  after  the  excellent  fashion  of 
that  merry  Grecian  who  died  laughing. 


TO  THE   LADIES 

BY  ANTHONY  EVERGREEN,  GENT. 

NEXT  to  our  being  a  knot  of  independent  old  bachelors, 
there  is  nothing  on  which  we  pride  ourselves  more  highly 


311 

than  upon  possessing  that  true  chivalric  spirit  of  gallantry 
which  distinguished  the  days  of  King  Arthur  and  his  valiant 
knights  of  the  Round  Table.  We  cannot,  therefore,  leave 
the  lists  where  we  have  so  long  been  tilting  at  folly,  without 
giving  a  farewell  salutation  to  those  noble  dames  and  beaute- 
ous damsels  who  have  honored  us  with  their  presence  at  the 
tourney.  Like  true  knights,  the  only  recompense  we  crave 
is  the  smile  of  beauty,  and  the  approbation  of  those  gentle 
fair  ones,  whose  smile  and  whose  approbation  far  excels  all 
the  trophies  of  honor,  and  all  the  rewards  of  successful  am- 
bition. True  it  is,  that  we  have  suffered  infinite  perils  in 
standing  forth  as  their  champions,  from  the  sly  attacks  of 
sundry  arch  caitiffs,  who,  in  the  overflowings  of  their  malig- 
nity, have  even  accused  us  of  entering  the  lists  as  defenders 
of  the  very  foibles  and  faults  of  the  sex.  Would  that  we  could 
meet  with  these  recreants  hand  to  hand;  they  should  receive 
no  more  quarter  than  giants  and  enchanters  in  romance. 

Had  we  a  spark  of  vanity  in  our  natures,  here  is  a  glori 
ous  occasion  to  show  our  skill  in  refuting  these  illiberal  in 
sinuations;  but  there  is  something  manly,  and  ingenuous,  in 
making  an  honest  confession  of  one's  offenses  when  about 
retiring  from  the  world ;  and  so,  without  any  more  ado,  we 
doff  our  helmets  and  thus  publicly  plead  guilty  to  the  deadly 
sin  of  good  nature;  hoping  and  expecting  forgiveness  from 
our  good-natured  readers — yet  careless  whether  they  bestovr 
it  or  not.  And  in  this  we  do  but  imitate  sundry  condemned 
criminals,  who,  finding  themselves  convicted  of  a  capital 
crime,  with  great  openness  and  candor  do  generally  in  their 
last  dying  speech  make  a  confession  of  all  their  previous 
offenses,  which  confession  is  always  read  with  great  delight 
by  all  true  lovers  of  biography. 

Still,  however,  notwithstanding  our  notorious  devotion  to 
the  gentle  sex,  and  our  indulgent  partiality,  we  have  en- 
deavored, on  divers  occasions,  with  all  the  polite  and  becom- 
ing delicacy  of  true  respect,  to  reclaim  them  from  many  of 
those  delusive  follies  and  unseemly  peccadilloes  in  which 
they  are  unhappily  too  prone  to  indulge.  We  have  warned 


of 

them  against  the  sad  consequences  of  encountering  our  mid- 
night damps  and  withering  wintry  blasts;  we  have  endeav- 
ored, with  pious  hand,  to  snatch  them  from  the  'wildermg 
mazes  of  the  waltz,  and  thus  rescuing  them  from  the  arms 
of  strangers  to  restore  them  to  the  bosoms  of  their  friends; 
to  preserve  them  from  the  nakedness,  the  famine,  the  cob- 
web muslins,  the  vinegar  cruet,  the  corset,  the  stay-tape,  the 
buckram,  and  all  the  other  miseries  and  racks  of  a  fine  fig- 
ure. But,  above  all,  we  have  endeavored  to  lure  them  from 
the  mazes  of  a  dissipated  world,  where  they  wander  about, 
careless  of  their  value,  until  they  lose  their  original  worth; 
and  to  restore  them,  before  it  is  too  late,  to  the  sacred  asylum 
of  home,  the  soil  most  congenial  to  the  opening  blossom  of 
female  loveliness ;  where  it  blooms  and  expands  in  safety, 
in  the  fostering  sunshine  of  maternal  affection,  and  where 
its  heavenly  sweets  are  best  known  and  appreciated. 

Modern  philosophers  may  determine  the  proper  destina- 
tion of  the  sex;  they  may  assign  to  them  an  extensive  and 
brilliant  orbit,  in  which  to  revolve,  to  the  delight  of  the  mil- 
lion and  the  confusion  of  man's  superior  intellect;  but  when 
on  this  subject  we  disclaim  philosophy,  and  appeal  to  the 
higher  tribunal  of  the  heart:  and  what  heart  that  had  not 
lost  its  better  feelings  would  ever  seek  to  repose  its  happiness 
on  the  bosom  of  one  whose  pleasures  all  lay  without  the 
threshold  of  home;  who  snatched  enjoyment  only  in  the 
whirlpool  of  dissipation,  and  amid  the  thoughtless  and 
evanescent  gayety  of  a  ball-room?  The  fair  one  who  is 
forever  in  the  career  of  amusement  may  for  a  while  dazzle, 
astonish,  and  entertain;  but  we  are  content  with  coldly  ad- 
miring, and  fondly  turn  from  glitter  and  noise  to  seek  the 
happy  fireside  of  social  life,  there  to  confide  our  dearest  and 
beat  affections. 

Yet  some  there  are,  and  we  delight  to  mention  them,  who 
mingle  freely  with  the  world,  unsullied  by  its  contaminations; 
whose  brilliant  minds,  like  the  stars  of  the  firmament,  are 
destined  to  shed  their  light  abroad  and  gladden  every  be- 
holder with  their  radiance:  to  withhold  them  from  the 


313 

world  would  be  doing  it  injustice  j  they  are  inestimable 
gems,  which  were  never  formed  to  be  shut  up  in  caskets, 
but  to  be  the  pride  and  ornament  of  elegant  society. 

We  have  endeavored  always  to  discriminate  between  a 
female  of  this  superior  order  and  the  thoughtless  votary  of 
pleasure;  who,  destitute  of  intellectual  resources,  is  servilely 
dependent  on  others  for  every  little  pittance  of  enjoyment; 
who  exhibits  herself  incessantly  amid  the  noise,  the  giddy 
frolic,  and  capricious  variety  of  fashionable  assemblages! 
dissipating  her  languid  affections  on  a  crowd,  lavishing  her 
ready  smiles  with  indiscriminate  prodigality  on  the  worthy 
or  the  undeserving,  and  listening  with  equal  vacancy  of 
mind  to  the  conversation  of  the  enlightened,  the  frivolity 
of  the  coxcomb,  and  the  flourish  of  the  fiddlestick. 

There  is  a  certain  artificial  polish,  a  commonplace  vivac- 
ity, acquired  by  perpetually  mingling  in  the  beau  monde; 
which,  in  the  commerce  of  the  world,  supplies  the  place  of 
natural  suavity  of  good  humor;  but  is  purchased  at  the  ex 
pense  of  all  original  and  sterling  traits  of  character.  By  a 
kind  of  fashionable  discipline  the  eye  is  taught  to  brighten, 
the  lip  to  smile,  and  the  whole  countenance  to  emanate  with 
the  semblance  of  friendly  welcome,  while  the  bosom  is  un« 
warmed  by  a  single  spark  of  genuine  kindness  or  good-wflL 
This  elegant  simulation  may  be  admired  by  the  connoisseur 
of  human  character  as  a  perfection  of  art;  but  the  heart  is 
not  to  be  deceived  by  the  superficial  illusion :  it  turns  with 
delight  to  the  timid  retiring  fair  one,  whose  smile  is  the 
smile  of  nature;  whose  blush  is  the  soft  suffusion  of  delicate 
sensibility;  and  whose  affections,  unblighted  by  the  chilling 
effects  of  dissipation,  glow  with  all  the  tenderness  and  purity 
of  artless  youth.  Hers  is  a  singleness  of  mind,  a  native  in- 
nocence of  manners,  and  a  sweet  timidity,  that  steal  insen- 
sibly upon  the  heart,  and  lead  it  a  willing  captive;  though 
venturing  occasionally  among  the  fairy  haunts  of  pleasure, 
she  shrinks  from  the  broad  glare  of  notoriety,  and  seems  io 
seek  refuge  among  her  friends,  even  from  the  admiration  of 
the  world. 

*  *  *  N  VOL.  V. 


of 

These  observations  bring  to  mind  a  little  allegory  in  one 
of  the  manuscripts  of  the  sage  Mustapha,  which,  being  in 
Borne  measure  applicable  to  the  subject  of  this  essay,  we 
transcribe  for  the  benefit  of  our  fair  readers. 

Among  the  numerous  race  of  the  Bedouins,  who  people 
the  vast  tracts  of  Arabia  Deserta,  is  a  small  tribe,  remark- 
able for  their  habits  of  solitude  and  love  of  independence. 
They  are  of  a  rambling  disposition,  roving  from  waste  to 
waste,  slaking  their  thirst  at  such  scanty  pools  as  are  found 
in  those  cheerless  plains,  and  glory  in  the  unenvied  liberty 
they  enjoy.  A  youthful  Arab  of  this  tribe,  a  simple  son  of 
nature,  at  length  growing  weary  of  his  precarious  and  un. 
settled  mode  of  life,  determined  to  set  out  in  search  of  some 
permanent  abode.  "I  will  seek,"  said  he,  "some  happy 
region,  some  generous  clime,  where  the  dews  of  heaven 
diffuse  fertility.  I  will  find  out  some  unfailing  stream;  and, 
forsaking  tho  joyless  life  of  my  forefathers,  settle  on  its 
borders,  dispose  my  mind  to  gentle  pleasures  and  tranquil 
enjoyments,  and  never  wander  more." 

Enchanted  with  this  picture  of  pastoral  felicity,  he  de- 
parted from  the  tents  of  his  companions;  and  having  jour- 
neyed during  five  days,  on  the  sixth,  as  the  sun  was  just 
rising  in  all  the  splendors  of  the  east,  he  Kf  ted  up  his  eyes 
and  beheld  extended  before  him  in  smiling  luxuriance  the 
fertile  regions  of  Arabia  the  Happy,  Gently  swelling  hills, 
tufted  with  blooming  groves,  swept  down  into  luxuriant 
vales,  enameled  with  flowers  of  never-withering  beauty. 
The  sun,  no  longer  darting  his  rays  with  torrid  fervor, 
beamed  with  a  genial  warmth  that  gladdened  and  enriched 
the  landscape.  A  pure  and  temperate  serenity,  an  air  of 
voluptuous  repose,  a  smile  of  contented  abundance,  pervaded 
the  face  of  nature;  and  every  zephyr  breathed  a  thousand 
delicious  odors.  The  soul  of  the  youthful  wanderer  expanded 
with  delight.  He  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  almost 
mingled  with  his  tribute  of  gratitude  a  sigh  of  regret  that  he 
had  lingered  so  long  amid  the  sterile  solitudes  of  the  desert. 

"With  fond  impatience  he  hastened  to  make  choice  of  a 


315 

stream  where  he  might  fix  his  habitation,  and  taste  the 
promised  sweets  of  this  land  of  delight.  But  here  com- 
menced an  unforeseen  perplexity ;  for,  though  he  beheld  in- 
numerable streams  on  every  side,  yet  not  one  could  he  find 
which  completely  answered  his  high  raised  expectations. 
One  abounded  with  wild  and  picturesque  beauty,  but  it  was 
capricious  and  unsteady  in  its  course ;  sometimes  dashing  its 
angry  billows  against  the  rocks,  and  often  raging  and  over- 
flowing its  banks.  Another  flowed  smoothly  along,  without 
even  a  ripple  or  a  murmur;  but  its  bottom  was  soft  and 
muddy,  and  its  current  dull  and  sluggish.  A  third  was  pure 
and  transparent,  but  its  waters  were  of  a  chilling  coldness, 
and  it  had  rocks  and  flints  in  its  bosom.  A  fourth  was 
dulcet  in  its  tinklings  and  graceful  in  its  meanderings,  but 
it  had  a  cloying  sweetness  that  palled  upon  the  taste ;  while 
a  fifth  possessed  a  sparkling  vivacity  and  a  pungency  of  flavor 
that  deterred  the  wanderer  from  repeating  his  draught. 

The  youthful  Bedouin  began  to  weary  with  fruitless  trials 
and  repeated  disappointments,  when  his  attention  was  sud- 
denly attracted  by  a  lively  brook,  whose  dancing  waves  glit- 
tered in  the  sunbeams,  and  whose  prattling  current  com- 
municated an  air  of  bewitching  gayety  to  the  surrounding 
landscape.  The  heart  of  the  wayworn  traveler  beat  with 
expectation ;  but  on  regarding  it  attentively  in  its  course,  he 
found  that  it  constantly  avoided  the  embowering  shade;  loi- 
tering with  equal  fondness,  whether  gliding  through  the  rich 
valley,  or  over  the  barren  sand;  that  the  fragrant  flower, 
the  fruitful  shrub,  and  worthless  bramble  were  alike  fos- 
tered by  its  waves,  and  that  its  current  was  often  interrupted 
by  unprofitable  weeds.  "With  idle  ambition  it  expanded 
itself  beyond  its  proper  bounds,  and  spread  into  a  shallow 
waste  of  water,  destitute  of  beauty  or  utility,  and  babbling 
along  with  uninteresting  vivacity  and  vapid  turbulence. 

The  wandering  son  of  the  desert  turned  away  with  a  sigh 
of  regret,  and  pitied  a  stream  which,  if  content  within  its 
natural  limits,  might  have  been  the  pride  of  the  valley  and 
the  object  of  all  his  wishes.  Pensive,  musing,  and  disap- 


of 

pointed,  he  slowly  pursued  his  now  almost  hopeless  pilgrim- 
age, and  had  rambled  for  some  time  along  the  margin  of  a 
gentle  rivulet  before  he  became  sensible  of  its  beauties.  It 
was  a  simple  pastoral  stream,  which,  shunning  the  noonday 
glare,  pursued  its  unobtrusive  course  through  retired  and 
tranquil  vales — now  dimpling  among  flowery  banks  and 
tufted  shrubbery;  now  winding  among  spicy  groves,  whose 
aromatic  foliage  fondly  bent  down  to  meet  the  limpid  wave. 
Sometimes,  but  not  often,  it  would  venture  from  its  covert  to 
stray  through  a  flowery  meadow ;  but  quickly,  as  if  fearful 
of  being  seen,  stole  back  again  into  its  more  congenial  shade, 
and  there  lingered  with  sweet  delay.  Wherever  it  bent  its 
course,  the  face  of  nature  brightened  into  smiles,  and  a  per- 
ennial spring  reigned  upon  its  borders.  The  warblers  of  the 
woodland  delighted  to  quit  their  recesses  and  carol  among 
its  bowers;  while  the  turtle-dove,  the  timid  fawn,  the  soft- 
eyed  gazelle,  and  all  the  rural  populace  who  joy  in  the  se- 
questered taunts  of  nature,  resorted  to  its  vicinity.  Its  pure, 
transparent  waters  rolled  over  snow-white  sands,  and  heaven 
itself  was  reflected  in  its  tanquil  bosom. 

The  simple  Arab  threw  himself  upon  its  verdant  margin. 
He  tasted  the  silver  tide,  and  it  was  like  nectar  to  his  lips. 
He  bounded  with  transport,  for  he  had  found  the  object  of 
his  wayfaring.  "Here,"  cried  he,  "will  I  pitch  my  tent. 
Here  will  I  pass  my  days;  for  pure,  oh,  fair  stream,  is  thy 
gentle  current;  beauteous  are  thy  borders;  and  the  grove 
must  be  a  paradise  that  is  refreshed  by  thy  meanderings!" 


Pendant  opera  interrupta. — Vino. 
The  work's  all  aback.—  Link.  Fid. 

"How  hard  it  is,"  exclaims  the  divine  Con-futse,  better 
known  among  the  illiterate  by  the  name  of  Confucius,  "for 
a  man  to  bite  off  his  own  nose!"  At  this  moment  I,  Wil- 
liam Wizard,  Esq.,  feel  the  full  force  of  this  remark,  and 
cannot  but  give  vent  to  my  tribulation  at  being  obliged, 


317 

through  the  whim  of  friend  Langstaff ,  to  stop  short  in  my 
literary  career  when  at  the  very  point  of  astonishing  my 
country  and  reaping  the  brightest  laurels  of  literature.  "We 
daily  hear  of  shipwrecks,  of  failures  and  bankruptcies;  they 
are  trifling  mishaps  which,  from  their  frequency,  excite  but 
little  astonishment  or  sympathy;  but  it  is  not  often  that  we 
hear  of  a  man's  letting  immortality  slip  through  his  fingers; 
and  when  he  does  meet  with  such  a  misfortune,  who  would 
deny  him  the  comfort  of  bewailing  his  calamity? 

Next  to  embargo  laid  upon  our  commerce  the  greatest 
public  annoyance  is  the  embargo  laid  upon  our  work;  in 
consequence  of  which  the  produce  of  my  wits,  like  that  of 
my  country,  must  remain  at  home;  and  my  ideas,  like  so 
many  merchantmen  in  port,  or  redoubtable  frigates  in  the 
Potomac,  moulder  away  in  the  mud  of  my  own  brain.  I 
know  of  few  things  hi  this  world  more  annoying  than  to  be 
interrupted  in  the  middle  of  a  favorite  story,  at  the  most 
interesting  part,  where  one  expects  to  shine;  or  to  have  a 
conversation  broken  off  just  when  you  are  about  coming  out 
with  a  score  of  excellent  jokes,  not  one  of  which  but  was 
good  enough  to  make  every  fine  figure  in  corsets  literally 
split  her  sides  with  laughter.  In  some  such  predicament  am 
I  placed  at  present;  and  I  do  protest  to  you,  my  good-looking 
and  well-beloved  readers,  by  the  chop-sticks  of  the  immortal 
Josh,  I  was  on  the  very  brink  of  treating  you  with  a  full 
broadside  of  the  most  ingenious  and  instructive  essays  that 
your  precious  noddles  were  ever  bothered  with. 

In  the  first  place,  I  had,  with  infinite  labor  and  pains, 
and  by  consulting  the  divine  Plato,  Sanconiathon,  Apol- 
lonius,  Rhodius,  Sir  John  Harrington,  Noah  "Webster, 
Linkum  Fidelius,  and  others,  fully  refuted  all  those  wild 
theories  respecting  the  first  settlement  of  our  venerable  coun- 
try; and  proved,  beyond  contradiction,  that  America,  so  far 
from  being,  as  the  writers  of  upstart  Europe  denominate  it, 
the  new  world,  is  at  least  as  old  as  any  country  in  existence, 
not  excepting  Egypt,  China,  or  even  the  land  of  the  Assini- 
boins;  which,  according  to  the  traditions  of  that  ancient 


518  U/orKs  of  U/asl?io$toi}  Irvfi)$ 

people,  has  already  assisted  at  the  funerals  of  thirteen  suns 
and  four  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  moons! 

I  had  likewise  written  a  long  dissertation  on  certain  hiero- 
glyphics discovered  on  these  fragments  of  the  moon,  whicli 
have  lately  fallen,  with  singular  propriety,  in  a  neighboring 
State;  and  have  thrown  considerable  light  on  the  state  of 
literature  and  the  arts  in  that  planet ;  showing  that  the  uni- 
versal language  which  prevails  there  is  High  Dutch ;  thereby 
proving  it  to  be  the  most  ancient  and  original  tongue,  and 
corroborating  the  opinion  of  a  celebrated  poet  that  it  is  the 
language  in  which  the  serpent  tempted  our  grandmother  Eve. 

To  support  the  theatric  department,  I  had  several  very 
judicious  critiques,  ready  written,  wherein  no  quarter  was 
shown  either  to  authors  or  actors ;  and  I  was  only  waiting  to 
determine  at  what  plays  or  performances  they  should  be 
leveled.  As  to  the  grand  spectacle  of  Cinderella,  which  is  to 
be  represented  this  season,  I  had  given  it  a  most  unmerciful 
handling;  showing  that  it  was  neither  tragedy,  comedy,  nor 
farce;  that  the  incidents  were  highly  improbable,  that  the 
prince  played  like  a  perfect  harlequin,  that  the  white  mice 
were  merely  powdered  for  the  occasion,  and  that  the  new 
moon  had  a  most  outrageous  copper  nose. 

But  my  most  profound  and  erudite  essay  in  embryo  is  an 
analytical,  hypercritical  review  of  these  "Salmagundi"  lucu- 
brations; which  I  had  written  partly  in  revenge  for  the 
many  waggish  jokes  played  off  against  me  by  my  confeder- 
ates, and  partly  for  the  purpose  of  saving  much  invaluable 
labor  to  the  Zoiluses  and  Dennises  of  the  age,  by  detecting 
and  exposing  all  the  similarities,  resemblances,  synonymies, 
analogies,  coincidences,  etc.,  which  occur  in  this  work. 

I  hold  it  downright  plagiarism  for  any  author  to  write, 
or  even  to  think,  in  the  same  manner  with  any  other  writer 
that  either  did,  doth,  or  may  exist.  It  is  a  sage  maxim  of 
law — "Ignorantia  neminem  excusat" — and  the  same  has 
been  extended  to  literature :  so  that  if  an  author  shall  publish 
an  idea  that  has  been  ever  hinted  by  another,  it  shall  be  no 
exculpation  for  him  to  plead  ignorance  of  the  fact.  All, 


319 

therefore,  that  I  had  to  do  was  to  take  a  good  pair  of  spec- 
tacles, or  a  magnifying  glass,  and  with  "Salmagundi"  in 
hand,  and  a  table  full  of  books  before  me,  to  mouse  over 
them  alternately,  in  a  corner  of  Cockloft  library:  carefully 
comparing  and  contrasting  all  odd  ends  and  fragments  of 
sentences.  Little  did  honest  Launce  suspect,  when  he  sat 
lounging  and  scribbling  in  his  elbow-chair,  with  no  other 
stock  to  draw  upon  than  his  own  brain,  and  no  other  au- 
thority to  consult  than  the  sage  Linkum  Fidelius ! — little  did 
he  think  that  his  careless,  unstudied  effusions  would  receive 
such  scrupulous  investigation. 

By  laborious  researches,  and  patiently  collating  words, 
where  sentences  and  ideas  did  not  correspond,  I  have  detected 
sundry  sly  disguises  and  metamorphoses  of  which,  I'll  be 
bound,  Langstaff  himself  is  ignorant.  Thus,  for  instance — 
The  little  man  in  black  is  evidently  no  less  a  personage  than 
old  Goody  Blake,  or  goody  something,  niched  from  the 
"Spectator,"  who  confessedly  filched  her  from  Otway's 
"wrinkled  hag  with  age  grown  double."  My  friend  Launce 
has  taken  the  honest  old  woman,  dressed  her  up  in  the  cast- 
off  suit  worn  by  Twaits,  in  Lampedo,  and  endeavored  to 
palm  the  imposture  upon  the  enlightened  inhabitants  of 
Gotham.  No  further  proof  of  the  fact  need  be  given  than 
that  Goody  Blake  was  taken  for  a  witch ;  and  the  little  man 
in  black  for  a  conjurer;  and  that  they  both  lived  in  villages, 
the  inhabitants  of  which  were  distinguished  by  a  most  re- 
spectful abhorrence  of  hobgoblins  and  broomsticks.  To  be 
sure  the  astonishing  similarity  ends  here,  but  surely  that  is 
enough  to  prove  that  the  little  man  in  black  is  no  other  than 
Goody  Blake  in  the  disguise  of  a  white  witch. 

Thus,  also,  the  sage  Mustapha,  in  mistaking  a  brag  party 
for  a  convention  of  magi  studying  hieroglyphics,  may  pre- 
tend to  originality  of  idea,  and  to  a  familiar  acquaintance 
with  the  black  letter  literati  of  the  East ;  but  this  Tripolitan 
trick  will  not  pass  here.  I  refer  those  who  wish  to  detect  his 
larceny  to  one  of  those  wholesale  jumbles  or  hodge-podge 
collections  of  science  which,  like  a  tailor's  pandemonium,  or 


320  U/orKs  of  U/asljiQ^toi? 

a  giblet-pie,  are  receptacles  for  scientific  fragments  of  all 
sorts  and  sizes.  The  reader,  learned  in  dictionary  studies, 
will  at  once  perceive  I  mean  an  encyclopedia.  There,  under 
the  title  of  magi,  Egypt,  cards  or  hieroglyphics,  I  forget 
which,  will  be  discovered  an  idea  similar  to  that  of  Mustapha, 
as  snugly  concealed  as  truth  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  or  the 
mistletoe  amid  the  shady  branches  of  an  oak ;  and  it  may  at 
any  time  be  drawn  from  its  lurking  place,  by  those  hewers  of 
wood  and  drawers  of  water  who  labor  in  humbler  walks  of 
criticism.  This  is  assuredly  a  most  unpardonable  error  of 
the  sage  Mustapha,  who  had  been  the  captain  of  a  ketch, 
and,  of  course,  as  your  nautical  men  are  for  the  most  part 
very  learned,  ought  to  have  known  better.  But  this  is  not 
the  only  blunder  of  the  grave  Mussulman,  who  swears  by 
the  head  of  Amrou,  the  beard  of  Barbarossa,  and  the  sword 
of  Khalid,  as  glibly  as  our  good  Christian  soldiers  anathe- 
matize body  and  soul,  or  a  sailor  his  eyes  and  odd  limbs. 
Now  I  solemnly  pledge  myself  to  the  world,  that  in  all  my 
travels  through  the  East,  in  Persia,  Arabia,  China  and  Egypt, 
I  never  heard  man,  woman,  or  child  utter  any  of  those  pre- 
posterous and  new-fangled  asseverations;  and  that,  so  far 
from  swearing  by  any  man's  head,  it  is  considered,  through- 
out the  East,  the  greatest  insult  that  can  be  offered  to  either 
the  living  or  dead  to  meddle  in  any  shape  even  with  his 
beard.  These  are  but  two  or  three  specimens  of  the  ex- 
posures I  would  have  made;  but  I  should  have  descended 
<jtill  lower;  nor  would  have  spared  the  most  insignificant; 
and,  or  but,  or  nevertheless,  provided  I  could  have  found  a 
ditto  in  the  "Spectator"  or  the  dictionary.  But  all  these 
minutiae  I  bequeath  to  the  Lilliputian  literati  of  this  saga- 
cious community,  who  are  fond  of  hunting  "such  small 
deer,"  and  I  earnestly  pray  they  may  find  full  employment 
for  a  twelvemonth  to  come. 

But  the  most  outrageous  plagiarisms  of  friend  Launcelot 
are  those  made  on  sundry  living  personages.  Thus:  Tom 
Straddle  has  been  evidently  stolen  from  a  distinguished 
Brummagem  emigrant,  since  they  both  ride  on  horseback. 


5alma<$ui)dl  321 

i 

Dabble,  the  little  great  man,  has  his  origin  in  a  certain  aspir- 
ing counselor,  who  is  rising  in  the  world  as  rapidly  as  the 
heaviness  of  his  head  will  permit ;  mine  uncle  John  will  bear 
a  tolerable  comparison,  particularly  as  it  respects  the  sterling 
qualities  of  his  heart,  with  a  worthy  yeoman  of  Westchester 
County.  And  to  deck  out  Aunt  Charity,  and  the  amiable 
Misses  Cockloft,  he  has  rifled  the  charms  of  half  the  ancient 
vestals  in  the  city.  Nay  he  has  taken  unpardonable  liberties 
with  my  own  person ! — elevating  me  on  the  substantial  ped- 
estals of  a  worthy  gentleman  from  China,  and  tricking  me 
out  with  claret  coats,  tight  breeches,  and  silver-sprigged 
dickeys,  in  such  sort  that  I  can  scarcely  recognize  my  own 
resemblance ;  whereas  I  absolutely  declare  that  I  am  an  ex- 
ceeding good-looking  man,  neither  too  tall  nor  too  short,  too 
old  nor  too  young,  with  a  person  indifferently  robust,  a  head 
rather  inclining  to  be  large,  an  easy  swing  in  my  walk;  and 
that  I  wear  my  own  hair,  neither  queued,  nor  cropped,  nor 
turned  up,  but  in  a  fair,  pendulous,  oscillating  club,  tied 
with  a  yard  of  ninepenny  black  ribbon. 

And  now  having  said  all  that  occurs  to  me  on  the  present 
pathetic  occasion — having  made  my  speech,  wrote  my  eulogy, 
and  drawn  my  portrait,  I  bid  my  readers  an  affectionate 
farewell ;  exhorting  them  to  live  honestly  and  soberly ;  pay- 
ing their  taxes,  and  reverencing  the  state,  the  church,  and 
the  corporation;  reading  diligently  the  Bible  and  almanac, 
the  newspaper  and  "Salmagundi" — which  is  all  the  reading 
an  honest  citizen  has  occasion  for — and  eschewing  all  spirit 
of  faction,  discontent,  irreligion,  and  criticism. 
Which  is  all  at  present 

From  their  departed  friend, 

WILLIAM  WIZARD. 


BXD  OF  "  SALMAGUNDI 


VOYAGES  AND   DISCOVERIES 

OF  THE 

COMPANIONS  OF  COLUMBUS 


"To  declare  my  opinion  herein,  whatsoever  hath  here- 
tofore been  discovered  by  the  famous  travayles  of  Saturnus 
and  Hercules,  with  such  other  whom  the  Antiquitie  for 
their  heroical  acts  honoured  as  gods,  seemeth  but  little  and 
obscure,  if  it  be  compared  to  the  victorious  labors  of  the 
Spanyards." 

— P.  Martyr,  Decad.  III.  c.  4.    Lock's  translation. 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  first  discovery  of  the  western  hemisphere  has  already 
been  related  by  the  author  in  his  "History  of  Columbus." 
It  is  proposed  by  him,  in  the  present  work,  to  narrate  the 
enterprises  of  certain  of  the  companions  and  disciples  of  the 
admiral,  who,  enkindled  by  his  zeal,  and  instructed  by  his 
example,  sallied  forth  separately  hi  the  vast  region  of  adven- 
ture to  which  he  had  led  the  way.  Many  of  them  sought 
merely  to  skirt  the  continent  which  he  had  partially  visited, 
and  to  secure  the  first  fruits  of  the  pearl  fisheries  of  Paria 
and  Cubaga,  or  to  explore  the  coast  of  Veragua,  which  he 
had  represented  as  the  Aurea  Chersonesus  of  the  Ancients. 
Others  aspired  to  accomplish  a  grand  discovery  which  he 
had  meditated  toward  the  close  of  his  career.  In  the  course 
of  his  expeditions  along  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma,  Columbus 
had  repeatedly  received  information  of  the  existence  of  a  vast 
sea  to  the  south.  He  supposed  it  to  be  the  great  Indian 
Ocean,  the  region  of  the  Oriental  spice  islands,  and  that  it 
must  communicate  by  a  strait  with  the  Caribbean  Sea.  His 
last  and  most  disastrous  voyage  was  made  for  the  express 

(323) 


324  U/orKs  of  U/asI?ip$toi)  Irufr>$ 


purpose  of  discovering  that  imaginary  strait,  and  making 
his  way  into  this  Southern  Ocean.  The  illustrious  navigator, 
however,  was  doomed  to  die,  as  it  were,  upon  the  threshold 
of  his  discoveries.  It  was  reserved  for  one  of  his  followers, 
Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  to  obtain  the  first  view  of  the  prom- 
ised ocean,  from  the  lofty  mountains  of  Darien,  some  years 
after  the  eyes  of  the  venerable  admiral  had  been  closed  in 
death. 

The  expeditions  herein  narrated,  therefore,  may  be  consid- 
ered as  springing  immediately  out  of  the  voyages  of  Colum- 
bus, and  fulfilling  some  of  his  grand  designs.  They  may  be 
compared  to  the  attempts  of  adventurous  knights-errant  to 
achieve  the  enterprise  left  unfinished  by  some  illustrious 
predecessor.  Neither  is  this  comparison  entirely  fanciful. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  curious  fact,  well  worthy  of  notice, 
that  the  spirit  of  chivalry  entered  largely  into  the  early  ex- 
peditions of  the  Spanish  discoverers,  giving  them  a  character 
wholly  distinct  from  similar  enterprises  undertaken  by  other 
nations.  It  will  not,  perhaps,  be  considered  far  sought  if 
we  trace  the  cause  of  this  peculiarity  to  the  domestic  history 
of  the  Spaniards  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

Eight  centuries  of  incessant  warfare  with  the  Moorish 
usurpers  of  the  peninsula  produced  a  deep  and  lasting  effect 
upon  the  Spanish  character  and  manners.  The  war  being 
ever  close  at  home,  mingled  itself  with  the  domestic  habits 
and  concerns  of  the  Spaniard.  He  was  born  a  soldier.  The 
wild  and  predatory  nature  of  the  war,  also,  made  him  a  kind 
of  chivalrous  marauder.  His  horse  and  weapon  were  always 
ready  for  the  field.  His  delight  was  in  roving  incursions 
and  extravagant  exploits,  and  no  gain  was  so  glorious  in  his 
eyes  as  the  cavalgada  of  spoils  and  captives  driven  home  in 
triumph  from  a  plundered  province.  Religion,  which  has 
ever  held  great  empire  in  the  Spanish  mind,  lent  its  aid  to 
sanctify  these  roving  and  ravaging  propensities,  and  the 
Castilian  cavalier,  as  he  sacked  the  towns  and  laid  waste  the 
fields  of  his  Moslem  neighbor,  piously  believed  he  was  doing 
God  service. 


Spares}?  Voyages  of  Discovery  325 

The  conquest  of  Granada  put  an  end  to  the  peninsular 
wars  betweeen  Christian  and  Infidel;  the  spirit  of  Spanish 
chivalry  was  thus  suddenly  deprived  of  its  wonted  sphere  of 
action ;  but  it  had  been  too  long  fostered  and  excited  to  be  as 
suddenly  appeased.  The  youth  of  the  nation,  bred  up  to 
daring  adventure  and  heroic  achievement,  could  not  brook 
the  tranquil  and  regular  pursuits  of  common  life,  but  panted 
for  some  new  field  of  romantic  enterprise. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  grand  project  of  Columbus 
was  carried  into  effect.  His  treaty  with  the  sovereigns  was, 
in  a  manner,  signed  with  the  same  pen  that  had  subscribed 
the  capitulation  of  the  Moorish  capital,  and  his  first  expedi- 
tion may  almost  be  said  to  have  departed  from  beneath  the 
walls  of  Granada.  Many  of  the  youthful  cavaliers  who  had 
fleshed  their  swords  in  that  memorable  war,  crowded  the 
ships  of  the  discoverers,  thinking  a  new  career  of  arms  was 
to  be  opened  to  them — a  kind  of  crusade  into  splendid  and 
unknown  regions  of  Infidels.  The  very  weapons  and  armor 
that  had  been  used  against  the  Moors  were  drawn  from  the 
arsenals  to  equip  the  discoverers,  and  some  of  the  most  noted 
of  the  early  commanders  in  the  New  World  will  be  found  to 
have  made  their  first  essay  in  arms  under  the  banner  of  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella,  in  their  romantic  campaigns  among 
the  mountains  of  Andalusia. 

To  these  circumstances  may,  in  a  great  measure,  be  as- 
cribed that  swelling  chivalrous  spirit  which  will  be  found 
continually  mingling,  or  rather  warring,  with  the  technical 
habits  of  the  seaman,  and  the  sordid  schemes  of  the  mercenary 
adventurer;  in  these  early  Spanish  discoveries,  chivalry  had 
left  the  land  and  launched  upon  the  deep.  The  Spanish 
cavalier  had  embarked  in  the  caravel  of  the  discoverer;  he 
carried  among  the  trackless  wildernesses  of  the  new  world 
the  same  contempt  of  danger  and  fortitude  under  suffering, 
the  same  restless  roaming  spirit,  the  same  passion  for  inroad 
and  ravage,  and  vainglorious  exploit,  and  the  same  fervent, 
and  often  bigoted,  zeal  for  the  propagation  of  his  faith  that 
had  distinguished  him  during  his  warfare  with  the  Moors. 


526  U/orl^s  of 

Instances  in  point  will  be  found  in  the  extravagant  career  of 
the  daring  Ojeda,  particularly  in  his  adventures  along  the 
coast  of  Terra  Firnia  and  the  wild  shores  of  Cuba.  In  the 
sad  story  of  the  "unfortunate  Nicuesa,"  graced  as  it  is  with 
occasional  touches  of  high-bred  courtesy;  in  the  singular 
cruise  of  that  brave,  but  credulous,  old  cavalier,  Juan  Ponce 
de  Leon,  who  fell  upon  the  flowery  coast  of  Florida,  in  his 
search  after  an  imaginary  fountain  of  youth ;  and  above  all 
in  the  checkered  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  whose 
discovery  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  forms  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  striking  incidents  in  the  history  of  the  New  World, 
and  whose  fate  might  furnish  a  theme  of  wonderful  interest 
for  a  poem  or  a  drama. 

The  extraordinary  actions  and  adventures  of  these  men, 
while  they  rival  the  exploits  recorded  in  chivalric  tale  have 
the  additional  interest  of  verity.  They  leave  us  in  admira* 
tion  of  the  bold  and  heroic  qualities  inherent  in  the  Spanish 
character,  which  led  that  nation  to  so  high  a  pitch  of  power 
and  glory,  and  which  are  still  discernible  in  the  great  mass 
of  that  gallant  people,  by  those  who  have  an  opportunity  of 
judging  of  them  rightly. 

Before  concluding  these  prefatory  remarks,  the  author 
would  acknowledge  how  much  he  has  been  indebted  to  the 
third  volume  of  the  invaluable  Historical  collection  of  Don 
Martin  Fernandez  de  Navarrete,  wherein  he  has  exhibited  his 
usual  industry,  accuracy,  and  critical  acumen.  He  has  like- 
wise profited  greatly  by  the  second  volume  of  Oviedo's  gen- 
eral history,  which  only  exists  in  manuscript,  and  a  copy  of 
which  he  found  in  the  Columbian  library  of  the  Cathedral 
of  Seville. 

He  has  had  some  assistance  also  from  the  documents  of 
the  law-case  between  Don  Diego  Columbus  and  the  Crown, 
which  exists  in  the  archives  of  the  Indies ;  and  for  an  inspec- 
tion of  which  he  is  much  indebted  to  the  permission  of  the 
Spanish  Government  and  the  kind  attentions  of  Don  Josef 
de  La  Higuera  Lara,  the  keeper  of  the  archives.  These, 
with  the  historical  works  of  Las  Casas,  Herrera  Gomera, 


l/oya$es  of  Discovery  327 

and  Peter  Martyr,  have  been  his  authorities  for  the  facts  con- 
tained in  the  following  work;  though  he  has  not  thought 
proper  to  refer  to  them  continually  at  the  bottom  of  his  page. 
While  his  work  was  going  through  the  press  he  received 
a  volume  of  Spanish  biography,  written  with  great  elegance 
and  accuracy,  by  Don  Manuel  Josef  Quintana,  and  contain- 
ing a  life  of  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa.  He  was  gratified  to 
find  that  his  arrangement  of  facts  were  generally  corrobo- 
rated by  this  work;  though  he  was  enabled  to  correct  his 
dates  in  several  instances,  and  to  make  a  few  other  emenda- 
tions from  the  volume  of  Senor  Quintana,  whose  position  in 
Spain  gave  him  the  means  of  attaining  superior  exactness  on 
these  points. 


ALONZO    DE    OJEDA* 


CHAPTER  ONE 

SOME     ACCOUNT     OP     OJEDA — OF    JUAN     DE     LA     COSA— OF 

AMERIGO  VESPUCCI — PREPARATIONS  FOR 

THE  VOYAGE— (1499) 

THOSE  who  have  read  the  "History  of  Columbus'*  will, 
doubtless,  remember  the  character  and  exploits  of  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda.  As  some  of  the  readers  of  the  following  pages,  how- 
ever, may  not  have  perused  that  work,  and  as  it  is  proposed 
at  present  to  trace  the  subsequent  fortunes  of  this  youthful 
adventurer,  a  brief  sketch  of  him  may  not  be  deemed  super- 
fluous. 

*  Ojeda  is  pronounced  in  Spanish  Oheda,  with  a  strong  aspiratioe 
j>f  the  h. 

\  Vespucci,  Vespuchy. 


328  U/orKe  of  U/asl?io<}toi) 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  was  a  native  of  Cuenca,  in  New  Castile, 
and  of  a  respectable  family.  He  was  brought  up  as  a  page 
or  esquire,  in  the  service  of  Don  Luis  de  Cerda,  Duke  of 
Medina  Celi,  one  of  the  most  powerful  nobles  of  Spain ;  the 
same  who  for  some  time  patronized  Columbus  during  his 
application  to  the  Spanish  court.* 

In  those  warlike  days,  when  the  peninsula  was  distracted 
by  contests  between  the  Christian  kingdoms,  by  feuds  be- 
tween the  nobles  and  the  crown,  and  by  the  incessant  and 
marauding  warfare  with  the  Moors,  the  household  of  a 
Spanish  nobleman  was  a  complete  school  of  arms,  where  the 
youth  of  the  country  were  sent  to  be  trained  up  in  all  kinds 
of  hardy  exercises,  and  to  be  led  to  battle  under  an  illustrious 
banner.  Such  was  especially  the  case  with  the  service  of 
the  Duke  of  Medina  Celi,  who  possessed  princely  domains, 
whose  household  was  a  petty  court,  who  led  legions  of  armed 
retainers  to  the  field,  and  who  appeared  in  splendid  state  and 
with  an  immense  retinue,  more  as  an  ally  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  than  as  a  subject.  He  engaged  in  many  of  the 
roughest  expeditions  of  the  memorable  war  of  Granada, 
always  insisting  on  leading  his  own  troops  in  person,  when 
the  service  was  of  peculiar  difficulty  and  danger.  Alonzo 
de  Ojeda  was  formed  to  signalize  himself  in  such  a  school. 
Though  small  of  stature,  he  was  well  made  and  of  wonderful 
force  and  activity,  with  a  towering  spirit  and  a  daring  eye 
that  seemed  to  make  up  for  deficiency  of  height.  He  was  a 
bold  and  graceful  horseman,  an  excellent  foot  soldier,  dex- 
terous with  every  weapon,  and  noted  for  his  extraordinary 
skill  and  adroitness  in  all  feats  of  strength  and  agility. 

He  must  have  been  quite  young  when  he  followed  the 
Duke  of  Medina  Celi,  as  page,  to  the  Moorish  wars;  for  he 
was  but  about  twenty-one  years  of  age  when  he  accompanied 
Columbus  in  his  second  voyage;  he  had  already,  however, 
distinguished  himself  by  his  enterprising  spirit  and  headlong 

*  Varones  Ilustres,  por  F.  Pizarro  y  Orellana,  p.  41.  Las  Casas 
Hist.  Ind.  1.  i.  c.  82. 


Spaniel?  l/oyaqes  of  Discovery  329 

valor;  and  his  exploits  during  that  voyage  contributed  to 
enhance  his  reputation.  He  returned  to  Spain  with  Colum- 
bus, but  did  not  accompany  him  in  his  third  voyage,  in  the 
spring  of  1498.  He  was  probably  impatient  of  subordination, 
and  ambitious  of  a  separate  employment  or  command,  which 
the  influence  of  his  connections  gave  him  a  great  chance  of 
obtaining.  He  had  a  cousin  -german  of  his  own  name,  the 
Reverend  Padre  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  a  Dominican  friar,  who 
was  one  of  the  first  inquisitors  of  Spain,  and  a  great  favorite 
with  the  Catholic  sovereigns.*  This  father  inquisitor  was, 
moreover,  an  intimate  friend  of  the  bishop  Don  Juan  Rodri- 
guez Fonseca,  who  had  the  chief  management  of  the  affairs 
of  the  Indies,  under  which  general  name  were  comprehended 
all  the  countries  discovered  in  the  new  world.  Through  the 
good  offices  of  his  cousin  inquisitor,  therefore,  Ojeda  had 
been  introduced  to  the  notice  of  the  bishop,  who  took  him 
into  his  especial  favor  and  patronage.  Mention  has  already 
been  made,  in  the  "History  of  Columbus,"  of  a  present 
made  by  the  bishop  to  Ojeda  of  a  small  Flemish  painting  of 
the  Holy  Virgin.  This  the  young  adventurer  carried  about 
with  him  as  a  protecting  relic,  invoking  it  at  all  times  of 
peril,  whether  by  sea  or  land ;  and  to  the  special  care  of  the 
Virgin  he  attributed  the  remarkable  circumstance  that  he 
had  never  been  wounded  in  any  of  the  innumerable  brawls 
and  battles  into  which  he  was  continually  betrayed  by  his 
rash  and  fiery  temperament. 

While  Ojeda  was  lingering  about  the  court,  letters  were 
received  from  Columbus,  giving  an  account  of  the  events  of 
his  third  voyage,  especially  of  his  discovery  of  the  coast  of 
Paria,  which  he  described  as  abounding  with  drugs  and 
spices,  with  gold  and  silver,  and  precious  stones,  and,  above 
all,  with  Oriental  pearls,  and  which  he  supposed  to  be  the 
borders  of  that  vast  and  unknown  region  of  the  East,  where- 
in, according  to  certain  learned  theorists,  was  situated  the 
terrestrial  paradise.  Specimens  of  the  pearls,  procured  in 

*  Pizarro.    Varones  Ilustres. 


330  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?io$toi?  Iru!i>$ 

considerable  quantities  from  the  natives,  accompanied  hie 
epistle,  together  with  charts  descriptive  of  his  route.  These 
tidings  caused  a  great  sensation  among  the  maritime  adven- 
turers of  Spain;  but  no  one  was  more  excited  by  them  than 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  who,  from  his  intimacy  with  the  bishop, 
had  full  access  to  the  charts  and  correspondence  of  Columbus. 
He  immediately  conceived  the  project  of  making  a  voyage  in 
the  route  thus  marked  out  by  the  admiral,  and  of  seizing 
upon  the  first  fruits  of  discovery  which  he  had  left  ungath- 
ered.  His  scheme  met  with  ready  encouragement  from 
Fonseca,  who,  as  has  heretofore  been  shown,  was  an  im- 
placable enemy  to  Columbus,  and  willing  to  promote  any 
measure  that  might  injure  or  molest  him.  The  bishop  ac- 
cordingly granted  a  commission  to  Ojeda,  authorizing  him 
to  fit  out  an  armament  and  proceed  on  a  voyage  of  discovery, 
with  the  proviso  merely  that  he  should  not  visit  any  terri- 
tories appertaining  to  Portugal,  or  any  of  the  lands  discov- 
ered in  the  name  of  Spain  previous  to  the  year  1495.  The 
latter  part  of  this  provision  appears  to  have  been  craftily 
worded  by  the  bishop,  so  as  to  leave  the  coast  of  Paria  and 
its  pearl  fisheries  open  to  Ojeda,  they  having  been  recently 
discovered  by  Columbus  in  1498. 

The  commission  was  signed  by  Fonseca  alone,  in  virtue 
of  general  powers  vested  in  him  for  such  purposes,  but  the 
signature  of  the  sovereigns  did  not  appear  on  the  instrument, 
and  it  is  doubtful  'whether  their  sanction  was  sought  on  the 
occasion.  He  knew  that  Columbus  had  recently  remon- 
strated against  a  royal  mandate  issued  in  1495,  permitting 
voyages  of  discovery  by  private  adventurers,  and  that  the 
sovereigns  had  in  consequence  revoked  their  mandate  where- 
over  it  might  be  deemed  prejudicial  to  the  stipulated  privi- 
leges of  the  admiral.*  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  the 
bishop  avoided  raising  any  question  that  might  impede  the 
enterprise;  being  confident  of  the  ultimate  approbation  of 
Ferdinand,  who  would  be  well  pleased  to  have  his  dominions 

*Njtvarrete,  t.  il     Document,  cxij;. 


Spai>isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  331 

in  the  New  World  extended  by  the  discoveries  of  private  ad- 
venturers, undertaken  at  their  own  expense.  It  was  stipu- 
lated in  this,  as  well  as  in  subsequent  licenses  for  private  ex- 
peditions, that  a  certain  proportion  of  the  profits,  generally  a 
fourth  or  fifth,  should  be  reserved  for  the  crown. 

Having  thus  obtained  permission  to  make  the  voyage,  the 
next  consideration  with  Ojeda  was  to  find  the  means.  He 
was  a  young  adventurer,  a  mere  soldier  of  fortune,  and  desti- 
tute of  wealth ;  but  he  had  a  high  reputation  for  courage  and 
enterprise,  and  with  these,  it  was  thought,  would  soon  make 
his  way  to  the  richest  parts  of  the  newly  discovered  lands, 
and  have  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  at  his  disposal.  He  had 
no  difficulty,  therefore,  in  finding  moneyed  associates  among 
the  rich  merchants  of  Seville,  who,  in  that  age  of  discovery, 
were  ever  ready  to  stake  their  property  upon  the  schemes  of 
roving  navigators.  "With  such  assistance  he  soon  equipped 
a  squadron  of  four  vessels  at  Port  St.  Mary,  opposite  Cadiz. 
Among  the  seamen  who  engaged  with  him  were  several  who 
had  just  returned  from  accompanying  Columbus  in  his  voy- 
age to  this  very  coast  of  Paria.  The  principal  associate  of 
Ojeda,  and  one  on  whom  he  placed  great  reliance,  was  Juan 
de  la  Cosa ;  who  accompanied  him  as  first  mate,  or,  as  it  was 
termed,  chief  pilot.  This  was  a  bold  Biscayan,  who  may  be 
regarded  as  a  disciple  of  Columbus,  with  whom  he  had  sailed 
in  his  second  voyage,  when  he  coasted  Cuba  and  Jamaica, 
and  he  had  since  accompanied  Rodrigo  de  Bastides  in  an 
expedition  along  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma.  The  hardy  vet- 
eran was  looked  up  to  by  his  contemporaries  as  an  oracle  of 
the  seas,  and  was  pronounced  one  of  the  most  able  mariners 
of  the  day;  he  may  be  excused,  therefore,  if  in  his  harmless 
vanity  he  considered  himself  on  a  par  even  with  Columbus.* 

Another  conspicuous  associate  of  Ojeda  in  this  voyage 
was  Amerigo  Vespucci,  a  Florentine  merchant,  induced  by 
broken  fortunes  and  a  rambling  disposition  to  seek  advent- 
ures in  the  new  world.  Whether  he  had  any  pecuniary  in- 

*Navarrete.    Collec.  Viag.,  t.  iii.,  p.  4. 


332  UYorKs  of  U/a8l?ii}<}toi7 

ierest  in  the  expedition,  and  in  what  capacity  he  sailed,  does 
not  appear.  His  importance  nas  entirely  arisen  from  subse- 
quent circumstances;  from  his  having  written  and  published 
a  narrative  of  his  voyages,  and  from  his  name  having  event- 
ually been  given  to  the  New  World. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

I>BPABTURB  FROM  SPAIN — ARRIVAL   ON   THE   COAST  OF 
PARIA — CUSTOMS   OF  THE  NATIVES 

QJEDA  sailed  from  Port  St.  Mary  on  the  20th  of  May, 
1499,  and,  having  touched  for  supplies  at  the  Canaries,  took 
a  departure  from  Gomara,  pursuing  the  route  of  Columbus 
in  his  third  voyage,  being  guided  by  the  chart  he  had  sent 
home,  as  well  as  by  the  mariners  who  had  accompanied  him 
on  that  occasion.  At  the  end  of  twenty-four  days  he  reached 
the  continent  of  the  New  World,  about  two  hundred  leagues 
further  south  than  the  part  discovered  by  Columbus,  being, 
as  it  is  supposed,  the  coast  of  Surinam.* 

From  hence  he  ran  along  the  coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Paria, 
passing  the  mouths  of  many  rivers,  but  especially  those  of 
the  Esquivo  and  the  Oronoko.  These,  to  the  astonishment 
of  the  Spaniards,  unaccustomed  as  yet  to  the  mighty  rivers 
of  the  New  World,  poured  forth  such  a  prodigious  volume  of 
water  as  to  freshen  the  sea  for  a  great  extent.  They  beheld 
none  of  the  natives  until  they  arrived  at  the  Island  of  Trini- 
dad, on  which  island  they  met  with  traces  of  the  recent  visit 
of  Columbus. 

Vespucci,  in  his  letters,  gives  a  long  description  of  the 
people  of  this  island  and  of  the  coast  of  Paria,  who  were  of 
the  Carib  race,  tall,  well-made  and  vigorous,  and  expert  with 
the  bow,  the  lance,  and  the  buckler.  His  description,  in  gen- 
eral, resembles  those  which  have  frequently  been  given  of 

*  Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  6. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  333 

the  aboriginals  of  the  New  World ;  there  are  two  or  three 
particulars,  however,  worthy  of  citation. 

They  appeared,  he  said,  to  believe  in  no  religious  creed, 
to  have  no  place  of  worship,  and  to  make  no  prayers  or  sacri- 
fices ;  but,  he  adds,  from  the  voluptuousness  of  their  lives, 
they  might  be  considered  Epicureans.*  Their  habitations 
were  built  in  the  shape  of  bells;  of  the  trunks  of  trees, 
thatched  with  palm  leaves,  and  were  proof  against  wind  and 
weather.  They  appeared  to  be  in  common,  and  some  of  them 
were  of  such  magnitude  as  to  contain  six  hundred  persons : 
in  one  place  there  were  eight  principal  houses  capable  of  shel- 
tering nearly  ten  thousand  inhabitants.  Every  seven  or  eight 
years  the  natives  were  obliged  to  change  their  residence,  from 
the  maladies  engendered  by  the  heat  of  the  climate  in  their 
crowded  habitations. 

Their  riches  consisted  in  beads  and  ornaments  made  from 
the  bones  of  fishes ;  in  small  white  and  green  stones  strung 
like  rosaries,  with  which  they  adorned  their  persons,  and  in 
the  beautiful  plumes  of  various  colors  for  which  the  tropical 
birds  are  noted. 

The  Spaniards  smiled  at  their  simplicity  in  attaching  an 
extraordinary  value  to  such  worthless  trifles;  while  the  sav- 
ages, in  all  probability,  were  equally  surprised  at  beholding 
the  strangers  so  eager  after  gold,  and  pearls,  and  precious 
stones,  which  to  themselves  were  objects  of  indifference. 

Their  manner  of  treating  the  dead  was  similar  to  that  ob- 
served among  the  natives  of  some  of  the  islands.  Having 
deposited  the  corpse  in  a  cavern  or  sepulcher,  they  placed  a 
jar  of  water  and  a  few  eatables  at  its  head,  and  then  aban- 
doned it  without  moan  or  lamentation.  In  some  parts  of  the 
coast,  when  a  person  was  considered  near  his  end  his  near- 
est relatives  bore  him  to  the  woods  and  laid  him  hi  a  ham- 
mock suspended  to  the  trees.  They  then  danced  round  him 
until  evening,  when,  having  left  within  his  reach  sufficient 
meat  and  drink  to  sustain  him  for  four  days,  they  repaired 

*  Viages  de  Vespucci.    Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  211. 


834  U/orKs  of  U/asI?it)$too 

to  their  habitations.  If  he  recovered  and  returned  home,  he 
was  received  with  much  ceremony  and  rejoicing;  if  he  died 
of  his  malady  or  of  famine  nothing  more  was  thought  of 
him. 

Their  mode  of  treating  a  fever  is  also  worthy  of  mention. 
In  the  height  of  the  malady  they  plunged  the  patient  in  a 
bath  of  the  coldest  water,  after  which  they  obliged  him  to 
make  many  evolutions  round  a  great  fire,  until  he  was  in  a 
violent  heat,  when  they  put  him  to  bed  that  he  might  sleep: 
a  treatment,  adds  Amerigo  Vespucci,  by  which  we  saw  many 
nured. 

CHAPTER  THREE 

COASTING  OF  TERRA  FIRMA — MILITARY    EXPEDITION 
OF  OJEDA 

AFTER  touching  at  various  parts  of  Trinidad  and  the 
Gulf  of  Paria,  Ojeda  passed  through  the  strait  of  the  Boca 
del  Drago,  or  Dragon's  Mouth,  which  Columbus  had  found 
eo  formidable,  and  then  steered  his  course  along  the  coast  of 
Terra  Finna,  landing  occasionally  until  he  arrived  at  Curi- 
ana,  or  the  Gulf  of  Pearls.  From  hence  he  stood  to  the 
opposite  island  of  Margarita,  previously  discovered  by  Co- 
lumbus, and  since  renowned  for  its  pearl  fishery.  This,  as 
well  as  several  adjacent  islands,  he  visited  and  explored; 
after  which  he  returned  to  the  mainland,  and  touched  at 
Cumana  and  Maracapana,  where  he  found  the  rivers  infested 
with  alligators  resembling  the  crocodiles  of  the  Nile. 

Finding  a  convenient  harbor  at  Maracapana  he  unloaded 
and  careened  his  vessels  there,  and  built  a  small  brigantine. 
The  natives  came  to  him  in  great  numbers,  bringing  abun- 
dance of  venison,  fish,  and  cassava  bread,  and  aiding  the 
seamen  in  their  labors.  Their  hospitality  was  not  certainly 
disinterested,  for  they  sought  to  gain  the  protection  of  the 
Spaniards,  whom  they  reverenced  as  superhuman  beings. 
When  they  thought  they  had  sufficiently  secured  their  favor, 


Spaijfsl?  Uoya^es  of  Dfseouery  335 

they  represented  to  Ojeda  that  their  coast  was  subject  to  in- 
vasion from  a  distant  island,  the  inhabitants  of  which  were 
cannibals,  and  carried  their  people  into  captivity,  to  be  de- 
voured at  their  unnatural  banquets.  They  besought  Ojeda, 
therefore,  to  avenge  them  upon  these  ferocious  enemies. 

The  request  was  gratifying  to  the  fighting  propensities  of 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  and  to  his  love  of  adventure,  and  was  read- 
ily granted.  Taking  seven  of  the  natives  on  board  of  his 
vessels,  therefore,  as  guides,  he  set  sail  in  quest  of  the  can- 
nibals. After  sailing  for  seven  days  he  came  to  a  chain  of 
islands,  some  of  which  were  peopled,  others  uninhabited, 
and  which  are  supposed  to  have  been  the  Caribee  islands. 
One  of  these  was  pointed  out  by  his  guides  as  the  habitation 
of  their  foes.  On  running  near  the  shore  he  beheld  it  thronged 
with  savage  warriors,  decorated  with  coronets  of  gaudy 
plumes,  their  bodies  painted  with  a  variety  of  colors.  They 
were  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  with  darts,  lances,  and 
bucklers,  and  seemed  prepared  to  defend  their  island  from 
invasion. 

This  show  of  war  was  calculated  to  rouse  the  martial 
spirit  of  Ojeda.  He  brought  his  ships  to  anchor,  ordered  out 
his  boats,  and  provided  each  with  a  paterero  or  small  cannon. 
Besides  the  oarsmen,  each  boat  contained  a  number  of  sol- 
diers, who  were  told  to  crouch  out  of  sight  in  the  bottom. 
The  boats  then  pulled  in  steadily  for  the  shore.  As  they  ap- 
proached, the  Indians  let  fly  a  cloud  of  arrows,  but  without 
much  effect.  Seeing  the  boats  continue  to  advance,  the  sav- 
ages threw  themselves  into  the  sea,  and  brandished  their 
lances  to  prevent  their  landing.  Upon  this,  the  soldierg 
sprang  up  in  the  boats  and  discharged  the  patereroes.  At 
the  sound  and  smoke  of  these  unknown  weapons  the  savages 
abandoned  the  water  in  affright,  while  Ojeda  and  his  men 
leaped  on  shore  and  pursued  them.  The  Carib  warriors  ral- 
lied on  the  banks,  and  fought  for  a  long  time  with  that  cour- 
age peculiar  to  their  race,  but  were  at  length  driven  to  the 
woods,  at  the  edge  of  the  sword,  leaving  many  killed  and 
wounded  on  the  field  of  battle. 


336  U/orks  of 

On  the  following  day  the  savages  were  seen  on  the  shore 
in  still  greater  numbers,  armed  and  painted,  and  decorated 
with  war  plumes,  and  sounding  defiance  with  their  conchs 
and  drums.  Ojeda  again  landed  with  fifty-seven  men,  whom 
he  separated  into  four  companies,  and  ordered  them  to  charge 
the  enemy  from  different  directions.  The  Caribs  fought  for 
a  time  hand  to  hand,  displaying  great  dexterity  in  covering 
themselves  with  their  bucklers,  but  were  at  length  entirely 
routed  and  driven,  with  great  slaughter,  to  the  forests.  The 
Spaniards  had  but  one  man  killed  and  twenty-one  wounded 
in  these  combats — such  superior  advantage  did  their  armor 
give  them  over  the  naked  savages.  Having  plundered  and 
set  fire  to  the  houses,  they  returned  triumphantly  to  their 
ships,  with  a  number  of  Carib  captives,  and  made  sail  for 
the  mainland.  Ojeda  bestowed  a  part  of  the  spoil  upon  the 
seven  Indians  who  had  accompanied  him  as  guides,  and  sent 
them  exulting  to  their  homes,  to  relate  to  their  countryman 
the  signal  vengeance  that  had  been  wreaked  upon  their  foes. 
He  then  anchored  in  a  bay,  where  he  remained  for  twenty 
days,  until  his  men  had  recovered  from  their  wounds.  * 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

DISCOVERY    OP    THE  GULF    OP  VENEZUELA — TRANSACTIONS 
THERE — OJEDA  EXPLORES  THE    GULP — PENE- 
TRATES  TO  MARACAIBO 

His  crew  being  refreshed,  and  the  wounded  sufficiently 
recovered,  Ojeda  made  sail,  and  touched  at  the  island  of 
Curazao,  which,  according  to  the  accounts  of  Vespucci,  was 
inhabited  by  a  race  of  giants,  "every  woman  appearing  a 

*  There  is  some  discrepancy  in  the  early  accounts  of  this  battle,  as 
to  the  time  and  place  of  its  occurrence.  The  author  has  collated  the 
narratives  of  Vespucci,  Las  Casas,  Herrera,  and  Peter  Martyr,  and  the 
evidence  given  in  the  lawsuit  of  Diego  Columbus,  and  has  endeavored 
as  much  as  possible  to  reconcile  them. 


Spaptel?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  337 

Penthesilea,  and  every  man  an  Antaeus. "  *  As  Vespucci  was 
a  scholar,  and  as  he  supposed  himself  exploring  the  regions 
of  the  extreme  East,  the  ancient  realm  of  fable,  it  is  probable 
his  imagination  deceived  him,  and  construed  the  formidable 
accounts  given  by  the  Indians  of  their  cannibal  neighbors  of 
the  islands  into  something  according  with  his  recollections 
of  classic  fable.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  reports  of  subsequent 
voyagers  proved  the  inhabitants  of  the  island  to  be  of  the 
ordinary  size. 

Proceeding  along  the  coast,  he  arrived  at  a  vast  deep 
gulf,  resembling  a  tranquil  lake;  entering  which,  he  beheld 
on  the  eastern  side  a  village,  the  construction  of  which  struck 
him  with  surprise.  It  consisted  of  twenty  large  houses, 
shaped  like  bells,  and  built  on  piles  driven  into  the  bottom 
of  the  lake,  which,  in  this  part,  was  limpid  and  of  but  little 
depth.  Each  house  was  provided  with  a  drawbridge,  and 
with  canoes,  by  which  the  communication  was  carried  on. 
From  these  resemblances  to  the  Italian  city,  Ojeda  gave  to 
the  bay  the  name  of  the  Gulf  of  Venice :  and  it  is  called  at 
the  present  day  Venezuela,  or  little  Venice :  the  Indian  name 
was  Ooquibacoa. 

When  the  inhabitants  beheld  the  ships  standing  into  the 
bay,  looking  like  wonderful  and  unknown  apparitions  from 
the  deep,  they  fled  with  terror  to  their  houses,  and  raised  the 
drawbridges.  The  Spaniards  remained  for  a  time  gazing 
with  admiration  at  this  amphibious  village,  when  a  squadron 
of  canoes  entered  the  harbor  from  the  sea.  On  beholding  the 
ships  they  paused  in  mute  amazement,  and  on  the  Spaniards 
attempting  to  approach  them,  paddled  swiftly  to  shore,  and 
plunged  into  the  forest.  They  soon  returned  with  sixteen 
young  girls,  whom  they  conveyed  hi  their  canoes  to  the  ships, 
distributing  four  on  board  of  each,  either  as  peace-offerings 
or  as  tokens  of  amity  and  confidence.  The  best  of  under- 
standing now  seemed  to  be  established ;  and  the  inhabitants 
of  the  village  came  swarming  about  the  ships  hi  their  canoes, 
and  others  swimming  in  great  numbers  from  the  shores. 
*  Vespucci. — Letter  to  Lorenzo  de  Pier  Francisco  de  Medicis. 

*  *  *  O  VOL.  V. 


338  U/orl(8  of  U/a»l?ir)$toi>  Irufpq 

The  friendship  of  the  savages,  however,  was  all  delusive. 
On  a  sudden,  several  old  women  at  the  doors  of  the  houses 
uttered  loud  shrieks,  tearing  their  hair  in  fury.  It  appeared 
to  be  a  signal  for  hostility.  The  sixteen  nymphs  plunged 
into  the  sea  and  made  for  shore;  the  Indians  in  the  canoes 
caught  up  their  bows  and  discharged  a  flight  of  arrows,  and 
even  those  who  were  swimming  brandished  darts  and  lances, 
which  they  had  hitherto  concealed  beneath  the  water. 

Ojeda  was  for  a  moment  surprised  at  seeing  war  thus 
starting  up  on  every  side,  and  the  very  sea  bristling  with 
weapons.  Manning  his  boats,  he  immediately  charged  among 
the  thickest  of  the  enemy,  shattered  and  sunk  several  of  their 
canoes,  killed  twenty  Indians  and  wounded  many  more,  and 
spread  such  a  panic  among  them  that  most  of  the  survivors 
flung  themselves  into  the  sea  and  swam  to  shore.  Three  of 
them  were  taken  prisoners  and  two  of  the  fugitive  girls,  and 
were  conveyed  on  board  of  the  ships,  where  the  men  were 
put  in  irons.  One  of  them,  however,  and  the  two  girls,  suc- 
ceeded in  dexterously  escaping  the  same  night. 

Ojeda  had  but  five  men  wounded  in  the  affray ;  all  of 
whom  recovered.  He  visited  the  houses,  but  found  them 
abandoned  and  destitute  of  booty ;  notwithstanding  the  un- 
provoked hostility  of  the  inhabitants,  he  spared  the  build- 
ings, that  he  might  not  cause  useless  irritation  along  the 
coast. 

Continuing  to  explore  this  gulf,  Ojeda  penetrated  to  a 
port  or  harbor,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew, but  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  same  at  present  known 
by  the  original  Indian  name  of  Maracaibo.  Here,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  entreaties  of  the  natives,  he  sent  a  detach- 
ment of  twenty-seven  Spaniards  on  a  visit  to  the  interior. 
For  nine  days  they  were  conducted  from  town  to  town,  and 
feasted  and  almost  idolized  by  the  Indians,  who  regarded 
them  as  angelic  beings,  performing  their  national  dances  and 
games,  and  chanting  their  traditional  ballads,  for  their  enter- 
tainment. 

The  natives  of  this  part  were  distinguished  for  the  sym- 


Sparjisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  339 

metry  of  their  forms ;  the  females  in  particular  appeared  to 
the  Spaniards  to  surpass  all  others  that  they  had  yet  beheld 
in  the  New  "World  for  grace  and  beauty ;  neither  did  the  men 
evince,  in  the  least  degree,  that  jealousy  which  prevailed  in 
other  parts  of  the  coast ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  permitted  the 
most  frank  and  intimate  intercourse  with  their  wives  and 
daughters. 

By  the  time  the  Spaniards  set  out  on  their  return  to  the 
ship,  the  whole  country  was  aroused,  pouring  forth  its  popu- 
lation, male  and  female,  to  do  them  honor.  Some  bore  them 
in  litters  or  hammocks,  that  they  might  not  be  fatigued  with 
the  journey,  and  happy  was  the  Indian  who  had  the  honor 
of  bearing  a  Spaniard  on  his  shoulders  across  a  river.  Others 
loaded  themselves  with  the  presents  that  had  been  bestowed 
on  their  guests,  consisting  of  rich  plumes,  weapons  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  and  tropical  birds  and  animals.  In  this  way  they 
returned  in  triumphant  procession  to  the  ships,  the  woods 
and  shores  resounding  with  their  songs  and  shouts. 

Many  of  the  Indians  crowded  into  the  boats  that  took  the 
detachment  to  the  ships;  others  put  off  in  canoes,  or  swam 
from  shore,  so  that  in  a  little  while  the  vessels  were  thronged 
with  upward  of  a  thousand  wondering  natives.  While  gaz- 
ing and  marveling  at  the  strange  objects  around  them,  Ojeda 
ordered  the  cannon  to  be  discharged,  at  the  sound  of  which, 
says  Vespucci,  the  Indians  "plunged  into  the  water,  like  so 
many  frogs  from  a  bank."  Perceiving,  however,  that  it 
was  done  in  harmless  mirth,  they  returned  on  board,  and 
passed  the  rest  of  the  day  in  great  festivity.  The  Spaniards 
brought  away  with  them  several  of  the  beautiful  and  hos- 
pitable females  from  this  place,  one  of  whom,  named  by 
them  Isabel,  was  much  prized  by  Ojeda,  and  accompanied 
him  in  a  subsequent  voyage.* 

*  Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  8.     Idem,  pp.  107,  108. 

It  is  worthy  of  particular  mention  that  Ojeda,  in  his  report  of  his 
voyage  to  the  sovereigns,  informed  them  of  his  having  met  with  En- 
glish voyagers  in  the  vicinity  of  Coquibacoa,  and  that  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment attached  such  importance  to  his  information  as  to  take  meas- 


540  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ir)$toi) 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

PROSECUTION   OF   THE   VOYAGE  —  RETURN   TO   SPAIN 

LEAVING  the  friendly  port  of  Coquibacoa,  Ojeda  con- 
tinued along  the  western  shores  of  the  gulf  of  Venezuela, 
and  standing  out  to  sea,  and  doubling  Cape  Maracaibo,  he 
pursued  his  coasting  voyage  from  port  to  port,  and  promon- 
tory to  promontory,  of  this  unknown  continent,  until  he 
reached  that  long  stretching  headland  called  Cape  de  la 
Vela.  There,  the  state  of  his  vessels,  and  perhaps  the  disap- 
pointment of  his  hopes  at  not  meeting  with  abundant  sources 
of  immediate  wealth,  induced  him  to  abandon  all  further 
voyaging  along  the  coast,  and,  changing  his  course,  he  stood 
across  the  Caribbean  Sea  for  Hispaniola.  The  tenor  of  his 
commission  forbade  his  visiting  that  island;  but  Ojeda  was 
not  a  man  to  stand  upon  trifles  when  his  interest  or  inclina- 
tion prompted  the  contrary.  He  trusted  to  excuse  the  infrac- 
tion of  his  orders  by  the  alleged  necessity  of  touching  at  the 
island  to  calk  and  refit  his  vessels,  and  to  procure  provisions. 
His  true  object,  however,  is  supposed  to  have  been  to  cut 
dye-wood,  which  abounds  in  the  western  part  of  Hispaniola. 

ures  to  prevent  any  intrusion  into  those  parts  by  the  English.  It  is 
singular  that  no  record  should  exist  of  this  early  and  extensive  expedi- 
tion of  English  navigators.  If  it  was  undertaken  in  the  service  of  the 
Crown,  some  document  might  be  found  concerning  it  among  the  ar- 
chives of  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  The  English  had  already  discovered 
the  continent  of  North  America.  This  had  been  done  in  1497,  by  John 
Cabot,  a  Venetian,  accompanied  by  his  son  Sebastian,  who  was  born  in 
Bristol.  They  sailed  under  a  license  of  Henry  VII.,  who  was  to  have  a 
fifth  of  the  profits  of  the  voyage.  On  the  24th  June  they  discovered 
Newfoundland,  and  afterward  coasted  the  continent  quite  to  Florida, 
bringing  back  to  England  a  valuable  cargo  and  several  of  the  natives. 
This  was  the  first  discovery  of  the  mainland  of  America.  The  succeSvS 
of  this  expedition  may  have  prompted  the  one  which  Ojeda  encountered 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Coquibacoa. 


Sparest?  l/oya$es  of  Discovery  341 

He  accordingly  anchored  at  Yaquimo  in  September,  and 
landed  with  a  large  party  of  his  men.  Columbus  at  that 
time  held  command  of  the  island,  and,  hearing  of  this  un- 
licensed intrusion,  dispatched  Francesco  Roldan,  the  quon- 
dam rebel,  to  call  Ojeda  to  account.  The  contest  of  strata- 
gem and  management  that  took  place  between  these  two 
adroit  and  daring  adventurers  has  already  been  detailed  hi 
the  "History  of  Columbus."  Roldan  was  eventually  success- 
ful, and  Ojeda,  being  obliged  to  leave  Hispaniola,  resumed 
his  rambling  voyage,  visiting  various  islands,  from  whence 
he  carried  off  numbers  of  the  natives.  He  at  length  arrived 
at  Cadiz,  in  June,  1500,  with  his  ships  crowded  with  cap- 
tives, whom  he  sold  as  slaves.  So  meager,  however,  was 
the  result  of  this  expedition  that,  we  are  told,  when  all  the 
expenses  were  deducted,  but  five  hundred  ducats  remained  to 
be  divided  between  fifty-five  adventurers.  What  made  this 
result  the  more  mortifying  was  that  a  petty  armament  which 
had  sailed  some  time  after  that  of  Ojeda  had  returned  two 
months  before  him,  rich  with  the  spoils  of  the  New  "World. 
A  brief  account  of  this  latter  expedition  is  necessary  to  con- 
nect this  series  of  minor  discoveries. 


PEDRO    ALONZO    NINO*    AND   CHRISTO- 
VAL   GUERRA— (1499) 

THE  permission  granted  by  Bishop  Fonseca  to  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda,  to  undertake  a  private  expedition  to  the  New  World, 
roused  the  emulation  of  others  of  the  followers  of  Columbus. 
Among  these  was  Pedro  Alonzo  Nino,  a  hardy  seaman,  na- 
tive of  Moguer  in  the  vicinity  of  Palos,  who  had  sailed  with 
Columbus,  as  a  pilot,  in  his  first  voyage,  and  also  in  his 
cruisings  along  the  coasts  of  Cuba  and  Paria.f  He  soon 

*  Pronounced  Ninyo.  The  5J  in  Spanish  is  always  pronounced  as  if 
followed  by  the  letter  y. 

f  Testimony  of  Bastides  in  the  lawsuit  of  Diego  Columbus. 


U/orl^g  of 

obtained  from  the  bishop  a  similar  license  to  that  given  to 
Ojeda,  and,  like  the  latter,  sought  for  some  moneyed  con- 
federate among  the  rich  merchants  of  Seville.  One  of  these, 
named  Luis  Guerra,  offered  to  fit. out  a  caravel  for  the  expe- 
dition ;  but  on  condition  that  his  brother,  Christoval  Guerra, 
should  have  the  command.  The  poverty  of  Nino  compelled 
him  to  assent  to  the  stipulations  of  the  man  of  wealth,  and 
he  sailed  as  subaltern  in  his  own  enterprise ;  but  his  nautical 
skill  and  knowledge  soon  gained  him  the  ascendency,  he  be- 
came virtually  the  captain,  and  ultimately  enjoyed  the  whole 
credit  of  the  voyage. 

The  bark  of  these  two  adventurers  was  but  of  fifty  tons 
burden,  and  the  crew  thirty-three  souls  all  told.  With  this 
slender  armament  they  undertook  to  traverse  unknown  and 
dangerous  seas,  and  to  explore  the  barbarous  shores  of  that 
vast  continent  recently  discovered  by  Columbus ;  such  was 
the  daring  spirit  of  the  Spanish  voyagers  of  those  days. 

It  was  about  the  beginning  of  June,  1499,  and  but  a  few 
days  after  the  departure  of  Ojeda,  that  they  put  to  sea.  They 
sailed  from  the  little  port  of  Palos,  the  original  cradle  of 
American  discovery,  whose  brave  and  skillful  mariners  long 
continued  foremost  in  all  enterprises  to  the  New  World.  Be- 
ing guided  by  the  chart  of  Columbus,  they  followed  his  route, 
and  reached  the  southern  continent,  a  little  beyond  Paria, 
about  fifteen  days  after  the  same  coast  had  been  visited  by 
Ojeda. 

They  then  proceeded  to  the  gulf  of  Paria,  where  they 
landed  to  cut  dye-wood,  and  were  amicably  entertained  by 
the  natives.  Shortly  after,  sallying  from  the  gulf  by  the 
Boca  del  Drago,  they  encountered  eighteen  canoes  of  Caribs, 
the  pirate-rovers  of  these  seas  and  the  terror  of  the  bordering 
lands.  This  savage  armada,  instead  of  being  daunted  as 
usual  by  the  sight  of  a  European  ship  with  swelling  sails, 
resembling  some  winged  monster  of  the  deep,  considered  it 
only  as  an  object  of  plunder  or  hostility  and  assailed  it  with 
showers  of  arrows.  The  sudden  burst  of  artillery,  however, 
from  the  sides  of  the  caravel  and  the  havoc  made  among  the 


Spar?isf?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  343 

Caribs  by  this  seeming  thunder,  struck  them  with  dismay 
and  they  fled  in  all  directions.  The  Spaniards  succeeded  in 
capturing  one  of  the  canoes,  with  one  of  the  warriors  who 
had  manned  it.  In  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  lay  an  Indian 
prisoner  bound  hand  and  foot.  On  being  liberated  he  in- 
formed the  Spaniards  by  signs  that  these  Caribs  had  been 
on  a  marauding  expedition  along  the  neighboring  coasts, 
shutting  themselves  up  at  night  in  a  stockade  which  they 
carried  with  them,  and  issuing  forth  by  day  to  plunder  the 
villages  and  to  make  captives.  He  had  been  one  of  seven 
prisoners.  His  companions  had  been  devoured  before  his 
eyes  at  the  cannibal  banquets  of  these  savages,  and  he  had 
been  awaiting  the  same  miserable  fate.  Honest  Nino  and 
his  confederates  were  so  indignant  at  this  recital  that,  receiv- 
ing it  as  established  fact,  they  performed  what  they  consid- 
ered an  act  of  equitable  justice,  by  abandoning  the  Carib  to 
the  discretion  of  his  late  captive.  The  latter  fell  upon  the 
defenseless  warrior  with  fist  and  foot  and  cudgel ;  nor  did 
his  rage  subside  even  after  the  breath  had  been  mauled  out 
of  his  victim,  but,  tearing  the  grim  head  from  the  body,  he 
placed  it  on  a  pole  as  a  trophy  of  his  vengeance. 

Nino  and  his  fellow-adventurers  now  steered  for  the  isl- 
and of  Margarita,  where  they  obtained  a  considerable  quan- 
tity of  pearls  by  barter.  They  afterward  skirted  the  opposite 
coast  of  Cumana,  trading  cautiously  and  shrewdly  from  port 
to  port;  sometimes  remaining  on  board  of  their  little  bark, 
and  obliging  the  savages  to  come  off  to  them,  when  the  lat- 
ter appeared  too  numerous ;  at  other  tunes  venturing  on  shore, 
and  even  into  the  interior.  They  were  invariably  treated 
with  amity  by  the  natives,  who  were  perfectly  naked,  ex- 
cepting that  they  were  adorned  with  necklaces  and  brace- 
lets of  pearls.  These  they  sometimes  gave  freely  to  the 
Spaniards,  at  other  times  they  exchanged  them  for  glass 
beads  and  other  trinkets,  and  smiled  at  the  folly  of  the 
strangers  in  making  such  silly  bargains.* 

*  Las  Casas.    Hist.  Ind.  lib.  i.  c.  171. 


344  U/orKs  of  U/asl?in$tOQ 

The  Spaniards  were  struck  with  the  grandeur  and  density 
of  the  forests  along  this  coast,  for  in  these  regions  of  heat 
and  moisture  vegetation  appears  in  its  utmost  magnificence. 
They  heard  also  the  cries  and  roarings  of  wild  and  unknown 
animals  in  the  woodlands,  which,  however,  appeared  not  to 
be  very  dangerous,  as  the  Indians  went  about  the  forest  armed 
solely  with  bows  and  arrows.  From  meeting  with  deer  and 
rabbits,  they  were  convinced  that  that  was  a  part  of  Terra 
Firma,  not  having  found  any  animals  of  the  kind  on  the 
islands.* 

Nino  and  Guerra  were  so  well  pleased  with  the  hospital- 
ity of  the  natives  of  Cumana,  and  with  the  profitable  traffic 
for  pearls,  by  which  they  obtained  many  of  great  size  and 
beauty,  that  they  remained  upward  of  three  months  on  the 
coast. 

They  then  proceeded  westward  to  a  country  called  Cau- 
chieto,  trading  as  usual  for  pearls,  and  for  the  inferior  kind 
of  gold  called  guanin.  At  length  they  arrived  at  a  place 
where  there  was  a  kind  of  fortress  protecting  a  number  of 
houses  and  gardens  situated  on  a  river,  the  whole  forming  to 
the  eyes  of  the  Spaniards  one  of  the  most  delicious  abodes 
imaginable.  They  were  about  to  land  and  enjoy  the  pleas- 
ures of  this  fancied  paradise,  when  they  beheld  upward  of  a 
thousand  Indians,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and  war- 
clubs,  preparing  to  give  them  a  warm  reception ;  having  been 
probably  incensed  by  the  recent  visit  of  Ojeda.  As  Nino 
and  Guerra  had  not  the  fighting  propensities  of  Ojeda,  and 
were  in  quest  of  profit  rather  than  renown,  having,  more- 
over, in  all  probability,  the  fear  of  the  rich  merchant  of  Sev- 
ille before  their  eyes,  they  prudently  abstained  from  land- 
ing, and,  abandoning  this  hostile  coast,  returned  forthwith 
to  Cumana  to  resume  their  trade  for  pearls.  They  soon 
amassed  a  great  number,  many  of  which  were  equal  in  size 
and  beauty  to  the  most  celebrated  of  the  East,  though  they 
had  been  injured  in  boring  from  a  want  of  proper  imple- 
ments. 

*  Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  14. 


Sparjisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  345 

Satisfied  with  their  success  they  now  set  sail  for  Spain 
and  piloted  their  little  bark  safely  to  Bayonne  hi  Gallicia, 
where  they  anchored  about  the  middle  of  April,  1500,  nearly 
two  months  before  the  arrival  of  Ojeda  and  his  associates, 
La  Cosa  and  Vespucci.* 

The  most  successful  voyagers  to  the  New  World  were 
doomed  to  trouble  from  their  very  success.  The  ample 
amount  of  pearls  paid  to  the  treasury,  as  the  royal  portion 
of  the  profits  of  this  expedition,  drew  suspicion  instead  of 
favor  upon  the  two  adventurers.  They  were  accused  of  hav- 
ing concealed  a  great  part  of  the  pearls  collected  by  them» 
thus  defrauding  their  companions  and  the  crown.  Pedro 
Alonzo  Nino  was  actually  thrown  into  prison  on  this  accusa- 
tion, but,  nothing  being  proved  against  him,  was  eventually 
set  free,  and  enjoyed  the  enviable  reputation  of  having  per- 
formed the  richest  voyage  that  had  yet  been  made  to  the 
New  World,  f 


VICENTE   YANEZ    PINZON— (1499) 

AMONG  the  maritime  adventurers  of  renown  who  were 
roused  to  action  by  the  licenses  granted  for  private  expedi- 
tions of  discovery,  we  find  conspicuous  the  name  of  Vicente 
Yanez  Pinzon,  of  Palos,  one  of  the  three  brave  brothers  who 
aided  Columbus  in  his  first  voyage  and  risked  life  and  fort- 
une with  him  in  his  doubtful  and  perilous  enterprise. 

Of  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  the  eldest  and  most  important 
of  these  three  brothers,  particular  mention  has  been  made  in 
the  "History  of  Columbus,"  and  of  the  unfortunate  error  in 
conduct  which  severed  him  from  the  admiral,  brought  on 
him  the  displeasure  of  the  sovereigns,  and  probably  contrib- 
uted to  his  premature  and  melancholy  death. 

*  Peter  Martyr.  Other  historians  give  a  different  date  for  their 
arrival.  Herrera  says  Feb.  6. 

f  Navarrete.    Collect,  t.  iii.  p.  11.    Herrera,  d.  i.  1.  iv.  c.  v. 


346  Works  of  U/asl?ii>$toi7 

Whatever  cloud  of  disgrace  may  have  overshadowed  his 
family  it  was  but  temporary.  The  death  of  Martin  Alonzo, 
as  usual,  atoned  for  his  faults,  and  his  good  deeds  lived  after 
him.  The  merits  and  services  of  himself  and  his  brothers 
were  acknowledged,  and  the  survivors  of  the  family  were 
restored  to  royal  confidence.  A  feeling  of  jealous  hostility 
prevented  them  from  taking  a  part  in  the  subsequent  voyages 
of  Columbus;  but  the  moment  the  door  was  thrown  open  for 
individual  enterprise  they  pressed  forward  for  permission  to 
engage  in  it  at  their  own  risk  and  expense — and  it  was  read- 
ily granted.  In  fact,  their  supposed  hostility  to  Columbus 
was  one  of  the  surest  recommendations  they  could  have  to 
the  favor  of  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  by  whom  the  license  was 
issued  for  their  expedition. 

Vicente  Yanez  Pinzon  was  the  leader  of  this  new  enter- 
prise, and  he  was  accompanied  by  two  nephews  named  Arias 
Perez  and  Diego  Fernandez,  sons  of  his  late  brother,  Martin 
Alonzo  Pinzon.  Several  of  his  sailors  had  sailed  with  Co- 
lumbus hi  his  recent  voyage  to  Paria,  as  had  also  his  three 
principal  pilots,  Juan  Quintero,  Juan  de  Umbria,  and  Juan 
de  Jerez.  Thus  these  minor  voyages  seemed  all  to  emanate 
from  the  great  expeditions  of  Columbus,  and  to  aim  at  realiz- 
ing the  ideas  and  speculations  contained  in  the  papers  trans- 
mitted by  him  to  Spain. 

The  armament  consisted  of  four  caravels,  and  was  fitted 
out  at  the  port  of  Palos.  The  funds  of  Vicente  Yanez  were 
completely  exhausted  before  he  had  fitted  out  his  little  squad- 
ron; he  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  purchase  on  credit  the  sea- 
stores  and  articles  of  traffic  necessary  for  the  enterprise.  The 
merchants  of  Palos  seem  to  have  known  how  to  profit  by  the 
careless  nature  of  sailors  and  the  sanguine  spirit  of  discover- 
ers. In  their  bargains  they  charged  honest  Pinzon  eighty 
and  a  hundred  per  cent  above  the  market  value  of  their  mer- 
chandise, and  in  the  hurry  and  urgency  of  the  moment  he 
was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  imposition.* 

*  Navarrete,  voL  iii.  See  Doc.  No.  7  where  Vicente  Yafiez  Pinzon 
petitions  for  redress. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  347 

The  squadron  put  to  sea  in  the  beginning  of  December, 
1499,  and,  after  passing  the  Canary  and  Cape  de  Verde  isl- 
ands, stood  to  the  southwest.  Having  sailed  about  seven 
hundred  leagues,  they  crossed  the  equator  and  lost  sight  of 
the  north  star.  They  had  scarcely  passed  the  equinoctial  line 
when  they  encountered  a  terrible  tempest,  which  had  well- 
nigh  swallowed  up  their  slender  barks.  The  storm  passed 
away  and  the  firmament  was  again  serene ;  but  the  mariners 
remained  tossing  about  in  confusion,  dismayed  by  the  turbu- 
lence of  the  waves  and  the  strange  aspect  of  the  heavens. 
They  looked  in  vain  to  the  south  for  some  polar  star  by  which 
to  shape  their  course,  and  fancied  that  some  swelling  promi- 
nence of  the  globe  concealed  it  from  their  view.  They  knew 
nothing  as  yet  of  the  firmament  of  that  hemisphere,  nor  of 
that  beautiful  constellation,  the  southern  cross,  but  expected 
to  find  a  guiding  star  at  the  opposite  pole  similar  to  the 
cynosure  of  the  north. 

Pinzon,  however,  who  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  pursued 
his  couse  resolutely  to  the  west,  and  after  sailing  about  two 
hundred  and  forty  leagues,  and  being  in  the  eighth  degree 
of  southern  latitude,  he  beheld  land  afar  off  on  the  28th  of 
January,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Santa  Maria  de  la 
Consolacion,  from  the  sight  of  it  having  consoled  him  in  the 
midst  of  doubts  and  perplexities.  It  is  now  called  Cape  St. 
Augustine,  and  forms  the  most  prominent  part  of  the  im- 
mense empire  of  Brazil. 

~*  The  sea  was  turbid  and  discolored  as  in  rivers,  and  on 
sounding  they  had  sixteen  fathoms  of  water.  Pinzon  landed, 
accompanied  by  a  notary  and  witnesses,  and  took  formal  pos- 
session of  the  territory  for  the  Castilian  crown ;  no  one  ap- 
peared to  dispute  his  pretensions,  but  he  observed  the  print 
of  footsteps  on  the  beach  which  seemed  of  gigantic  size. 

At  night  there  were  fires  lighted  upon  a  neighboring  part 
of  the  coast,  which  induced  Pinzon  on  the  following  morning 
to  send  forty  men  well  armed  to  the  spot.  A  band  of  In- 
dians, of  about  equal  number,  sallied  forth  to  encounter 
them,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  seemingly  of  ex- 


3/8  U/orKs  of 

traordinary  stature.  A  still  greater  number  were  seen  in 
the  distance  hastening  to  the  support  of  their  companions. 
The  Indians  arrayed  themselves  for  combat,  and  the  two 
parties  remained  for  a  short  time  eying  each  other  with  mut- 
ual curiosity  and  distrust.  The  Spaniards  now  displayed 
looking-glasses,  beads,  and  other  trinkets,  and  jingled  strings 
of  hawks'  bells,  hi  general  so  captivating  to  an  Indian  ear; 
but  the  haughty  savages  treated  all  their  overtures  with  con- 
tempt, regarding  these  offerings  carelessly  for  a  short  time, 
and  then  stalking  off  with  stoic  gravity.  They  were  fero- 
cious of  feature,  and  apparently  warlike  in  disposition,  and 
are  supposed  to  have  been  a  wandering  race  of  unusual  size, 
who  roamed  about  in  the  night,  and  were  of  the  most  fierce, 
intractable  nature.  By  nightfall  there  was  not  an  Indian  to 
be  seen  in  the  neighborhood. 

Discouraged  by  the  inhospitable  character  of  the  coast, 
Pinzon  made  sail  and  stood  to  the  northwest,  until  he  came 
to  the  mouth  of  a  river  too  shallow  to  receive  his  ships.  Here 
he  sent  his  boats  on  shore  with  a  number  of  men  well  armed. 
They  landed  on  the  river  banks,  and  beheld  a  multitude  of 
naked  Indians  on  a  neighboring  hill.  A  single  Spaniard 
armed  simply  with  sword  and  buckler  was  sent  to  invite 
them  to  friendly  intercourse.  He  approached  them  with 
signs  of  amity,  and  threw  to  them  a  hawks*  bell.  They 
replied  to  him  with  similar  signs,  and  threw  to  him  a  small 
gilded  wand.  The  soldier  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  when  sud- 
denly a  troop  of  savages  rushed  down  to  seize  him;  he  threw 
himself  immediately  upon  the  defensive,  with  sword  and  tar- 
get, and  though  but  a  small  man,  and  far  from  robust,  he 
handled  his  weapons  with  such  dexterity  and  fierceness  that 
he  kept  the  savages  at  bay,  making  a  clear  circle  round  him, 
and  wounding  several  who  attempted  to  break  it.  His  un- 
looked-for prowess  surprised  and  confounded  his  assailants, 
and  gave  time  for  his  comrades  to  come  to  his  assistance. 
The  Indians  then  made  a  general  assault,  with  such  a  gall- 
ing discharge  of  darts  and  arrows  that  almost  immediately 
eight  or  ten  Spaniards  were  slain,  and  many  more  wounded. 


SpaijisI?  Voyages  of  Discovery  349 

The  latter  were  compelled  to  retreat  to  their  boats  disputing 
every  inch  of  ground.  The  Indians  pursued  them  even  into 
the  water,  surrounding  the  boats  and  seizing  hold  of  the  oars. 
The  Spaniards  made  a  desperate  defense,  thrusting  many 
through  with  their  lances,  and  cutting  down  and  ripping  up 
others  with  their  swords;  but  such  was  the  ferocity  of  the 
survivors  that  they  persisted  in  their  attack  until  they  over- 
powered the  crew  of  one  of  the  boats  and  bore  it  off  in  tri- 
umph. With  this  they  retired  from  the  combat,  and  the 
Spaniards  returned,  defeated  and  disheartened,  to  their  ships, 
having  met  with  the  roughest  reception  that  the  Europeans 
had  yet  experienced  in  the  New  World. 

Pinzon  now  stood  forty  leagues  to  the  northwest,  until  he 
arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  equinoctial  line.  Here 
he  found  the  water  of  the  sea  so  fresh  that  he  was  enabled 
to  replenish  his  casks  with  it.  Astonished  at  so  singular  a 
phenomenon  he  stood  in  for  the  land,  and  arrived  among 
a  number  of  fresh  and  verdant  islands,  inhabited  by  a  gentle 
and  hospitable  race  of  people,  gayly  painted,  who  came  off  to 
the  ships  with  the  most  frank  and  fearless  confidence.  Pin- 
zon soon  found  that  these  islands  lay  in  the  mouth  of  an  im- 
mense river,  more  than  thirty  leagues  in  breadth,  the  water 
of  which  entered  upward  of  forty  leagues  into  the  sea  before 
losing  its  sweetness.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  renowned  Mara- 
non,  since  known  as  the  Orellana  and  the  Amazon.  White 
lying  in  the  mouth  of  this  river  there  was  a  sudden  swelling 
of  the  stream,  which,  being  opposed  by  the  current  of  the 
sea,  and  straitened  by  the  narrow  channels  of  the  islands, 
rose  more  than  five  fathoms,  with  mountain  waves,  and  a 
tremendous  noise,  threatening  the  destruction  of  the  ships. 
Pinzon  extricated  his  little  squadron  with  great  difficulty 
from  this  perilous  situation,  and  finding  there  was  but  little 
gold  or  anything  else  of  value  to  be  found  among  the  simple 
natives,  he  requited  their  hospitality,  in  the  mode  too  com- 
mon among  the  early  discoverers,  by  carrying  off  thirty-six 
of  them  captive. 

Having  regained  the  sight  of  the  polar  star,  Pinzon  pur 


#50  U/ort^s  of  U/asl?iQ$top 

sued  his  course  along  the  coast,  passing  the  mouth  of  the 
Oronoko,  and  entering  the  gulf  of  Paria,  where  he  landed 
and  cut  Brazil-wood.  Sallying  forth  by  the  Boca  del  Drago, 
he  reached  the  island  of  Hispaniola  about  the  23d  of  June, 
from  whence  he  sailed  for  the  Bahamas.  Here,  in  the  month 
of  July,  while  at  anchor,  there  came  such  a  tremendous  hur- 
ricane that  two  of  the  caravels  were  swallowed  up  with  all 
their  crews  in  the  sight  of  their  terrified  companions;  a  third 
parted  her  cables  and  was  driven  out  to  sea,  while  the  fourth 
was  so  furiously  beaten  by  the  tempest  that  the  crew  threw 
themselves  into  the  boats  and  made  for  shore.  Here  they 
found  a  few  naked  Indians,  who  offered  them  no  molesta- 
tion; but,  fearing  that  they  might  spread  the  tidings  of  a 
handful  of  shipwrecked  Spaniards  being  upon  the  coast,  and 
thus  bring  the  savages  of  the  neighboring  islands  upon  them, 
a  council  of  war  was  held  whether  it  would  not  be  a  wise 
precaution  to  put  these  Indians  to  death.  Fortunately  for 
the  latter,  the  vessel  which  had  been  driven  from  her  anchors 
returned  and  put  an  end  to  the  alarm,  and  to  the  council  of 
war.  The  other  caravel  also  rode  out  the  storm  uninjured, 
and  the  sea  subsiding,  the  Spaniards  returned  on  board,  and 
made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  island  of  Hispaniola.  Hav- 
ing repaired  the  damages  sustained  in  the  gale,  they  again 
made  sail  for  Spain,  and  came  to  anchor  in  the  river  before 
Palos,  about  the  end  of  September. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  checkered  and  disastrous  voy- 
ages that  had  yet  been  made  to  the  New  World.  Yanez  Pin- 
zon  had  lost  two  of  his  ships,  and  many  of  his  men ;  what 
made  the  loss  of  the  latter  more  grievous  was  that  they  had 
been  enlisted  from  among  his  neighbors,  his  friends,  and 
relatives.  In  fact,  the  expeditions  to  the  New  World  must 
have  realized  the  terrors  and  apprehensions  of  the  people  of 
Palos  by  filling  that  little  community  with  widows  and  or- 
phans. When  the  rich  merchants,  who  had  sold  goods  to 
Pinzon  at  a  hundred  per  cent  advance,  beheld  him  return  in 
this  sorry  condition,  with  two  shattered  barks  and  a  handful 
of  poor,  tattered,  weather-beaten  seamen,  they  began  to  trem- 


Spaijisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  351 

ble  for  their  money.  No  sooner,  therefore,  had  he  and  his 
nephews  departed  to  Granada,  to  give  an  account  of  their 
discoveries  to  the  sovereigns,  than  the  merchants  seized  upon 
their  caravels  and  cargoes,  and  began  to  sell  them  to  repay 
themselves.  Honest  Pinzon  immediately  addressed  a  peti- 
tion to  the  government,  stating  the  imposition  that  had  been 
practiced  upon  him,  and  the  danger  he  was  in  of  imprison- 
ment and  utter  ruin  should  his  creditors  be  allowed  to  sacri- 
fice his  goods  at  a  public  sale.  He  petitioned  that  they  might 
be  compelled  to  return  the  property  thus  seized,  and  that  he 
might  be  enabled  to  sell  three  hundred  and  fifty  quintals  of 
Brazil-wood,  which  he  had  brought  back  with  him,  and  which 
would  be  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  creditors. 
The  sovereigns  granted  his  prayer.  They  issued  an  order  to 
the  civil  authorities  of  Palos  to  interfere  in  the  matter,  with 
all  possible  promptness  and  brevity,  allowing  no  vexatious 
delay,  and  administering  justice  so  impartially  that  neither 
of  the  parties  should  have  cause  to  complain. 

Pinzon  escaped  from  the  fangs  of  his  creditors,  but,  of 
course,  must  have  suffered  in  purse  from  the  expenses  of  the 
law ;  which,  in  Spain,  is  apt  to  bury  even  a  successful  client 
under  an  overwhelming  mountain  of  documents  and  writ- 
ings. We  infer  this  in  respect  to  Pinzon  from  a  royal  order 
issued  in  the  following  year,  allowing  him  to  export  a  quan- 
tity of  grain,  in  consideration  of  the  heavy  losses  he  had  sus- 
tained in  his  voyage  of  discovery.  He  did  but  share  the 
usual  lot  of  the  Spanish  discoverers,  whose  golden  anticipa- 
tions too  frequently  ended  in  penury ;  but  he  is  distinguished 
from  among  the  crowd  of  them  by  being  the  first  European 
who  crossed  the  equinoctial  line,  on  the  western  ocean,  and 
by  discovering  the  great  kingdom  of  Brazil.  * 

*  On  the  5th  of  September,  1501,  a  royal  permission  was  given  to 
Vicente  Yafiez  Pinzon  to  colonize  and  govern  the  lands  he  had  discov- 
ered, beginning  a  little  north  of  the  river  Amazon,  and  extending  to 
Cape  St.  Augustine.  The  object  of  the  government  in  this  permission 
was  to  establish  an  outpost  and  a  resolute  commander  on  this  southern 
frontier,  that  should  check  any  intrusions  the  Portuguese  might  make 


S52  U/or^s  of 


DIEGO    DE   LEPE   AND   RODRIGO    DE 
BASTIDES— (1500) 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  hardships  and  disasters  that  had 
beset  the  voyagers  to  the  New  "World,  and  the  penury  in 
which  their  golden  anticipations  had  too  frequently  termi- 
nated, adventurers  continued  to  press  forward,  excited  by 
fresh  reports  of  newly-discovered  regions,  each  of  which,  in 
its  turn,  was  represented  as  the  real  land  of  promise.  Scarcely 
had  Vicente  Yanez  Pinzon  departed  on  the  voyage  recently 
narrated,  when  his  townsman,  Diego  de  Lepe,  likewise  set 
sail  with  two  vessels  from  the  busy  little  port  of  Palos  on  a 
like  expedition.  No  particulars  of  importance  are  known  of 
this  voyage,  excepting  that  Lepe  doubled  Cape  St.  Augustine, 
and  beheld  the  southern  continent  stretching  far  to  the  south- 

in  consequence  of  the  accidental  discovery  of  a  part  of  the  coast  of 
Brazil  by  Pedro  Alvarez  Cabral,  in  1500.  The  subsequent  arrangement 
of  a  partition  line  between  the  two  countries  prevented  the  necessity  of 
this  precaution,  and  it  does  not  appear  that  Vicente  Yafiez  Pinzon 
made  any  second  voyage  to  those  parts. 

In  1506  he  undertook  an  expedition  in  company  with  Juan  Diaz  de 
Soils,  a  native  of  Lebrija,  the  object  of  which  was  to  endeavor  to  find 
the  strait  or  passage  supposed  by  Columbus  to  lead  from  the  Atlantic 
to  a  southern  ocean.  It  was  necessarily  without  success,  as  was  also 
another  voyage  made  by  them,  for  the  same  purpose,  in  1508.  As  no 
such  passage  exists,  no  blame  could  attach  to  those  able  navigators  for 
being  foiled  in  the  object  of  their  search. 

In  consequence  of  the  distinguished  merits  and  services  of  the 
Pinzon  family  they  were  raised,  by  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  to  the 
dignity  of  a  Hidalguia,  or  nobility,  without  any  express  title,  and  a 
coat  of  arms  was  granted  them,  on  which  were  emblazoned  three  cara- 
vels, with  a  hand  at  the  stern  pointing  to  an  island  covered  with  sav- 
ages. This  coat  of  arms  is  still  maintained  by  the  family,  who  have 
added  to  it  the  motto  granted  to  Columbus,  merely  substituting  the 
came  of  Pinzon  for  that  of  the  Admiral, 

A  Castile  y  a  Leon, 
Nuevo  Munde  dio  Pinzon. 


Spaijisl?  l/oya^cs  of  Discovery  353 

west.  On  returning  to  Spain  he  drew  a  chart  of  the  coast 
for  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  and  enjoyed  the  reputation,  for  up- 
ward of  ten  years  afterward,  of  having  extended  his  discov- 
eries further  south  than  any  other  voyager. 

Another  contemporary  adventurer  to  the  New  "World  was 
Rodrigo  de  Bastides,  a  wealthy  notary  of  Triana,  the  suburb 
of  Seville  inhabited  by  the  maritime  part  of  its  population. 
Being  sanctioned  by  the  sovereigns,  to  whom  he  engaged  to 
yield  a  fourth  of  his  profits,  he  fitted  out  two  caravels  in 
October,  1500,  to  go  in  quest  of  gold  and  pearls. 

Prudently  distrusting  his  own  judgment  in  nautical  mat- 
ters, this  adventurous  notary  associated  with  him  the  veteran 
pilot  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  the  same  hardy  Biscayan  who  had 
sailed  with  Columbus  and  Ojeda.  A  general  outline  of  their 
voyage  has  already  been  given  in  the  life  of  Columbus;  it 
extended  the  discoveries  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma  from 
Cape  de  la  Vela,  where  Ojeda  had  left  off,  quite  to  the  port 
of  Nombre  de  Dios. 

Bastides  distinguished  himself  from  the  mass  of  discover- 
ers by  his  kind  treatment  of  the  natives,  and  Juan  de  la  Cosa 
by  his  sound  discretion  and  his  able  seamanship.  Their  voy- 
age had  been  extremely  successful,  and  they  had  collected, 
by  barter,  a  great  amount  of  gold  and  pearls,  when  their 
prosperous  career  was  checked  by  an  unlooked-for  evil. 
Their  vessels,  to  their  surprise,  became  leaky  in  every  part, 
and  they  discovered,  to  their  dismay,  that  the  bottoms  were 
pierced  in  innumerable  places  by  the  broma,  or  worm,  which 
abounds  in  the  waters  of  the  torrid  zone,  but  of  which  they, 
as  yet,  had  scarcely  any  knowledge.  It  was  with  great  diffi- 
culty they  could  keep  afloat  until  they  reached  a  small  islet 
on  the  coast  of  Hispaniola.  Here  they  repaired  their  ships 
as  well  as  they  were  able,  and  again  put  to  sea  to  return  to 
Cadiz.  A  succession  of  gales  drove  them  back  to  port;  the 
ravages  of  the  worms  continued;  the  leaks  broke  out  afresh; 
they  landed  the  most  portable  and  precious  part  of  their 
wealthy  cargoes,  and  the  vessels  foundered  with  the  remain, 
der.  Bastides  lost,  moreover,  the  arms  and  ammunition  saved 


854  U/orl^s  of  U/asI?iQ<jtoi> 

from  the  wreck,  being  obliged  to  destroy  them  lest  they 
should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians. 

Distributing  his  men  into  three  bands,  two  of  them  headed 
by  La  Cosa  and  himself,  they  set  off  for  San  Domingo  by 
three  several  routes,  as  the  country  was  not  able  to  furnish 
provisions  for  so  large  a  body.  Each  band  was  provided 
with  a  coffer  stored  with  trinkets  and  other  articles  of  Indian 
traffic,  with  which  to  buy  provisions  on  the  road. 

Francisco  de  Bobadilla,  the  wrong-headed  oppressor  and 
superseder  of  Columbus,  was  at  that  time  governor  of  San 
Domingo.  The  report  reached  him  that  a  crew  of  adven- 
turers had  landed  on  the  island,  and  were  marching  through 
the  country  hi  three  bands,  each  provided  with  a  coffer  of 
gold,  and  carrying  on  illicit  trade  with  the  natives.  The 
moment  Bastides  made  his  appearance,  therefore,  he  was 
seized  and  thrown  into  prison,  and  an  investigation  com- 
menced. In  his  defense  he  maintained  that  his  only  traffic 
with  the  natives  was  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  provisions 
for  his  followers,  or  guides  for  his  journey.  It  was  deter- 
mined, however,  to  send  him  to  Spain  for  trial,  with  the 
written  testimony  and  the  other  documents  of  his  exami- 
nation. 

He  was  accordingly  conveyed  in  the  same  fleet  in  which 
Bobadilla  embarked  for  Spain,  and  which  experienced  such 
an  awful  shipwreck  in  the  sight  of  Columbus.  The  ship 
"Rodrigo  Bastides"  was  one  of  the  few  that  outlived  the 
tempest;  it  arrived  safe  at  Cadiz  in  September,  1502.  Bas- 
tides was  ultimately  acquitted  of  the  charges  advanced 
against  him.  So  lucrative  had  been  his  voyage  that,  notwith* 
standing  the  losses  sustained  by  the  foundering  of  his  vessels, 
he  was  enabled  to  pay  a  large  sum  to  the  crown  as  a  fourth 
of  his  profits,  and  to  retain  a  great  amount  for  himself.  In 
reward  of  his  services  and  discoveries  the  sovereigns  granted 
him  an  annual  revenue  for  life,  to  arise  from  the  proceeds 
of  the  province  of  Uraba,  which  he  had  discovered.  An 
equal  pension  was  likewise  assigned  to  the  hardy  Juan  de  la 
Cosa,  to  result  from  the  same  territory,  of  which  he  was 


Spaniel?  Voyages  of  Discovery  355 

appointed  Alguazil  Mayor.*  Such  was  the  economical  gen- 
erosity of  King  Ferdinand,  who  rewarded  the  past  toils  of 
his  adventurous  discoverers  out  of  the  expected  produce  of 
their  future  labors. 


SECOND   VOYAGE   OF   ALONZO    DE 
OJEDA— (1502) 

THE  first  voyage  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  to  the  coast  of  Paria, 
and  its  meager  termination  in  June,  1500,  has  been  related. 
He  gained  nothing  in  wealth  by  that  expedition,  but  he 
added  to  his  celebrity  as  a  bold  and  skillful  adventurer.  His 
youthful  fire,  his  sanguine  and  swelling  spirit,  and  the  won- 
derful stories  that  were  told  of  his  activity  and  prowess,  made 
him  extremely  popular,  so  that  his  patron,  the  Bishop  Fon- 
seca,  found  it  an  easy  matter  to  secure  for  him  the  royal 
favor.  In  consideration  of  his  past  services  and  of  others 
expected  from  him,  a  grant  was  made  to  him  of  six  leagues 
of  land  on  the  southern  part  of  Hispaniola,  and  the  govern- 
ment  of  the  province  of  Coquibacoa  which  he  had  discovered. 
He  was,  furthermore,  authorized  to  fit  out  any  number  of 
ships,  not  exceeding  ten,  at  his  own  expense,  and  to  prose- 
cute the  discovery  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma.  He  was  not 
to  touch  or  traffic  on  the  pearl  coast  of  Paria ;  extending  as 
far  as  a  bay  in  the  vicinity  of  the  island  of  Margarita.  Be- 
yond this  he  had  a  right  to  trade  in  all  kinds  of  merchandise, 
whether  of  pearls,  jewels,  metals,  or  precious  stones;  paying 
one-fifth  of  the  profits  to  the  crown,  and  abstaining  from 
making  slaves  of  the  Indians  without  a  special  license  from 
the  sovereigns.  He  was  to  colonize  Coquibacoa,  and,  as  a 
recompense,  was  to  enjoy  one-half  of  the  proceeds  of  his 
territory,  provided  the  half  did  not  exceed  300,000  mara- 
vedies;  all  beyond  that  amount  was  to  go  to  the  crown. 

*  Navarrete.    Collec.  t.  iii. 


856  H/or^s  of 

A  principal  reason,  however,  for  granting  this  govern- 
ment and  those  privileges  to  Ojeda,  was  that,  in  his  previous 
voyage,  he  had  met  with  English  adventurers  on  a  voy- 
age of  discovery  in  the  neighborhood  of  Coquibacoa,  at 
which  the  jealousy  of  the  sovereigns  had  taken  the  alarm. 
They  were  anxious,  therefore,  to  establish  a  resolute  and 
fighting  commander  like  Ojeda  upon  this  outpost,  and  they 
instructed  him  to  set  up  the  arms  of  Castile  and  Leon  in 
every  place  he  visited,  as  a  signal  of  discovery  and  posses- 
sion, and  to  put  a  stop  to  the  intrusions  of  the  English.* 

With  this  commission  in  his  pocket  and  the  government 
of  an  Indian  territory  in  the  perspective,  Ojeda  soon  found 
associates  to  aid  him  in  fitting  out  an  armament.  These 
were  Juan  de  Vergara,  a  servant  of  a  rich  canon  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Seville,  and  Garcia  de  Campos,  commonly  called 
Ocampo.  They  made  a  contract  of  partnership  to  last  for 
two  years,  according  to  which  the  expenses  and  profits  of  the 
expedition,  and  of  the  government  of  Coquibacoa,  were  to 
be  shared  equally  between  them.  The  purses  of  the  con- 
federates were  not  ample  enough  to  afford  ten  ships,  but 
they  fitted  out  four.  1st,  the  "Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua," 
commanded  by  Garcia  del  Campo;  2d,  the  "Santa  Maria  de 
la  Granada,"  commanded  by  Juan  de  Vergara;  3d,  the 
caravel  "Magdalena,"  commanded  by  Pedro  de  Ojeda, 
nephew  to  Alonzo;  and  4th,  the  caravel  "Santa  Ana,"  com- 
manded by  Hernando  de  Guevara.  The  whole  was  under 
the  command  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  The  expedition  set  sail 
in  1502,  touched  at  the  Canaries,  according  to  custom,  to 
take  in  provisions,  and  then  proceeded  westward  for  the 
shores  of  the  New  World. 

After  traversing  the  gulf  of  Paria,  and  before  reaching 
the  island  of  Margarita,  the  caravel  "Santa  Ana,"  com- 
manded by  Hernando  de  Guevara,  was  separated  from  them, 
and  for  several  days  the  ships  were  mutually  seeking  each 
other  in  these  silent  and  trackless  seas.  After  they  were  all 

*  Navarre te,  t.  iii.,  document  x. 


Voyages  of  Discovery  357 

reunited  they  found  their  provisions  growing  scanty;  they 
landed  therefore  at  a  part  of  the  coast  called  Cumana  by  the 
natives,  but  to  which,  from  its  beauty  and  fertility,  Ojeda 
gave  the  name  of  Valfermoso.  While  foraging  here  for  their 
immediate  supplies,  the  idea  occurred  to  Ojeda  that  he  should 
want  furniture  and  utensils  of  all  kinds  for  his  proposed 
colony,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  pillage  them  from  a 
country  where  he  was  a  mere  transient  visitor  than  to  wrest 
them  from  his  neighbors  in  the  territory  where  he  was  to  set 
up  his  government.  His  companions  were  struck  with  the 
policy,  if  not  the  justice,  of  this  idea,  and  they  all  set  to 
work  to  carry  it  into  execution.  Dispersing  themselves, 
therefore,  in  ambush  in  various  directions,  they  at  a  con- 
certed signal  rushed  forth  from  their  concealment,  and  set 
upon  the  natives.  Ojeda  had  issued  orders  to  do  as  little 
injury  and  damage  as  possible,  and  on  no  account  to  destroy 
the  habitations  of  the  Indians.  His  followers,  however,  in 
their  great  zeal,  transcended  his  orders.  Seven  or  eight 
Indians  were  killed  and  many  wounded  in  the  skirmish 
which  took  place,  and  a  number  of  their  cabins  were  wrapped 
in  flames.  A  great  quantity  of  hammocks,  of  cotton,  and  of 
utensils  of  various  kinds,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  con- 
querors ;  they  also  captured  several  female  Indians,  some  of 
whom  were  ransomed  with  the  kind  of  gold  called  guanin; 
some  were  retained  by  Vergara  for  himself  and  his  friend 
Ocampo;  others  were  distributed  among  the  crews;  the  rest, 
probably  the  old  and  ugly,  were  set  at  liberty.  As  to  Ojeda, 
he  reserved  nothing  for  himself  of  the  spoil  excepting  a  single 
hammock. 

The  ransom  paid  by  the  poor  Indians  for  some  of  their 
effects  and  some  of  their  women,  yielded  the  Spaniards  a 
trifling  quantity  of  gold,  but  they  found  the  place  destitute 
of  provisions,  and  Ojeda  was  obliged  to  dispatch  Vergara  in 
a  caravel  to  the  island  of  Jamaica  to  forage  for  supplies,  with 
instructions  to  rejoin  him  at  Maracaibo  or  Cape  de  la  Vela. 

Ojeda  at  length  arrived  at  Coquibacoa,  at  the  port  des- 
tined for  his  seat  of  government.  He  found  the  country, 


S58  U/orKs  of  U/a»l?ii)$toi?  Irufi)$ 

however,  so  poor  and  sterile  that  lie  proceeded  along  the 
coast  to  a  bay  which  he  named  Santa  Cruz,  but  which  is 
supposed  to  be  the  same  at  present  called  Bahia  Honda, 
where  he  found  a  Spaniard  who  had  been  left  in  the  province 
of  Citarma  by  Bastides  in  his  late  voyage  about  thirteen 
months  before,  and  had  remained  ever  since  among  the 
Indians,  so  that  he  had  acquired  their  language. 

Ojeda  determined  to  form  his  settlement  at  this  place; 
but  the  natives  seemed  disposed  to  defend  their  territory,  for, 
the  moment  a  party  landed  to  procure  water,  they  were 
assailed  by  a  galling  shower  of  arrows  and  driven  back  to 
the  ships.  Upon  this  Ojeda  landed  with  all  his  force,  and 
struck  such  terror  into  the  Indians  that  they  came  forward 
with  signs  of  amity,  and  brought  a  considerable  quantity  of 
gold  as  a  peace-offering,  which  was  graciously  accepted. 

Ojeda,  with  the  concurrence  of  his  associates,  now  set  to 
work  to  establish  a  settlement,  cutting  down  trees  and  com- 
mencing a  fortress.  They  had  scarce  begun  when  they  were 
attacked  by  a  neighboring  cacique,  but  Ojeda  sallied  forth 
upon  him  with  such  intrepidity  and  effect  as  not  merely  to 
defeat,  but  to  drive  him  from  the  neighborhood.  He  then 
proceeded  quietly  to  finish  his  fortress,  which  was  defended 
by  lombards,  and  contained  the  magazine  of  provisions  and 
the  treasure  amassed  in  the  expedition.  The  provisions  were 
dealt  out  twice  a  day,  under  the  inspection  of  proper  officers; 
the  treasure  gained  by  barter,  by  ransom,  or  by  plunder,  was 
deposited  in  a  strong  box  secured  by  two  locks,  one  key  being 
kept  by  the  royal  supervisor,  the  other  by  Ocampo. 

In  the  meantime  provisions  became  scarce.  The  Indians 
never  appeared  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  fortress,  except  to 
harass  it  with  repeated  though  ineffectual  assaults.  Vergara 
did  not  appear  with  the  expected  supplies  from  Jamaica,  and 
a  caravel  was  dispatched  in  search  of  him.  The  people, 
worn  out  with  labor  and  privations  of  various  kinds,  and 
disgusted  with  the  situation  of  a  settlement  which  was  in  a 
poor  and  unhealthy  country,  grew  discontented  and  factious. 
They  began  to  fear  that  they  should  lose  the  means  of  depart- 


SpaQisl?  l/oya^es  of  Disoouery  359 

ing,  as  their  vessels  were  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  by  the 
broma  or  worms.  Ojeda  led  them  forth  repeatedly  upon 
foraging  parties  about  the  adjacent  country,  and  collected 
some  provisions  and  booty  in  the  Indian  villages.  The  pro- 
visions he  deposited  in  the  magazine,  part  of  the  spoils  he 
divided  among  his  followers,  and  the  gold  he  locked  up  in 
the  strong  box,  the  keys  of  which  he  took  possession  of,  to 
the  great  displeasure  of  the  supervisor  and  his  associate 
Ocampo.  The  murmurs  of  the  people  grew  loud  as  their 
sufferings  increased.  They  insinuated  that  Ojeda  had  no 
authority  over  this  part  of  the  coast,  having  passed  the 
boundaries  of  his  government,  and  formed  his  settlement  hi 
the  country  discovered  by  Bastides.  By  the  time  Vergara 
arrived  from  Jamaica,  the  factions  of  this  petty  colony  had 
risen  to  an  alarming  height.  Ocampo  had  a  personal  enmity 
to  the  governor,  arising  probably  from  some  feud  about  the 
strong  box ;  being  a  particular  friend  of  Vergara,  he  held  a 
private  conference  with  him,  and  laid  a  plan  to  entrap  the 
doughty  Ojeda.  In  pursuance  of  this  the  latter  was  invited 
on  board  of  the  caravel  of  Vergara  to  see  the  provisions  he 
had  brought  from  Jamaica,  but  no  sooner  was  he  on  board 
than  they  charged  him  with  having  transgressed  the  limits 
of  his  government,  with  having  provoked  the  hostility  of 
the  Indians,  and  needlessly  sacrificed  the  lives  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  above  all,  with  having  taken  possession  of  the 
strong  box,  in  contempt  of  the  authority  of  the  royal  super- 
visor, and  with  the  intention  of  appropriating  to  himself  all 
the  gains  of  the  enterprise;  they  informed  him,  therefore,  of 
their  intention  to  convey  him  a  prisoner  to  Hispaniola,  to 
answer  to  the  governor  for  his  offenses.  Ojeda,  finding  him- 
self thus  entrapped,  proposed  to  Vergara  and  Ocampo  that 
they  should  return  to  Spain  with  such  of  the  crews  as  chose 
to  accompany  them,  leaving  him  with  the  remainder  to  prose- 
cute his  enterprise.  The  two  recreant  partners  at  first  con- 
sented, for  they  were  disgusted  with  the  enterprise,  which 
offered  little  profit  and  severe  hardships.  They  agreed  to 
leave  Ojeda  the  smallest  of  the  caravels,  with  a  third  of  the 


860  U/orKs  of  U/ast?io$toi? 

provisions  and  of  their  gains,  and  to  build  a  rowboat  for 
him.  They  actually  began  to  labor  upon  the  boat.  Before 
ten  days  had  elapsed,  however,  they  repented  of  the  arrange- 
ment, the  ship-carpenters  were  ill,  there  were  no  calkers, 
and,  moreover,  they  recollected  that  as  Ojeda,  according  to 
their  representations,  was  a  defaulter  to  the  crown,  they 
would  be  liable  as  his  sureties  should  they  return  to  Spain 
without  him.  They  concluded,  therefore,  that  the  wisest 
plan  was  to  give  him  nothing,  but  to  carry  him  off  prisoner. 

When  Ojeda  learned  the  determination  of  his  wary  part- 
ners, he  attempted  to  make  his  escape  and  get  off  to  St. 
Domingo,  but  he  was  seized,  thrown  in  irons,  and  conveyed 
on  board  of  the  caravel.  The  two  partners  then  set  sail  from 
Santa  Cruz,  bearing  off  the  whole  community,  its  captive 
governor,  and  the  litigated  strong  box. 

They  put  to  sea  about  the  beginning  of  September,  and 
arrived  at  the  western  part  of  the  island  of  Hispaniola. 
"While  at  anchor  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  land,  Ojeda, 
confident  in  his  strength  and  skill  as  a  swimmer,  let  himself 
quietly  slide  down  the  side  of  the  ship  into  the  water  dur- 
ing the  night,  and  attempted  to  swim  for  the  shore.  His 
arms  were  free,  but  his  feet  were  shackled,  and  the  weight 
of  his  irons  threatened  to  sink  him.  He  was  obliged  to  shout 
for  help;  a  boat  was  sent  from  the  vessel  to  his  relief,  and 
the  unfortunate  governor  was  brought  back  half  drowned 
to  his  unrelenting  partners.* 

The  latter  now  landed  and  delivered  their  prisoner  into 
the  hands  of  Gallego,  the  commander  of  the  place,  to  be  put 
at  the  disposal  of  the  governor  of  the  island.  In  the  mean- 
time the  strong  box,  which  appears  to  have  been  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  these  feuds,  remained  in  the  possession  of  Vergara 
and  Ocampo,  who,  Ojeda  says,  took  from  it  whatever  they 
thought  proper,  without  regard  to  the  royal  dues  or  the 
consent  of  the  royal  supervisor.  They  were  all  together, 
prisoner  and  accusers,  in  the  city  of  San  Domingo,  about 

*  Hist.  Gen.  da  Viages.    Herrera,  Hist.  Ind. 


Spaijfsf?  l/oya^es  of  Dieoouery  361 

the  end  of  September  1502,  when  the  chief  judge  of  the 
island,  after  hearing  both  parties,  gave  a  verdict  against 
Ojeda  that  stripped  him  of  all  his  effects,  and  brought 
him  into  debt  to  the  crown  for  the  royal  proportion  of  the 
profits  of  the  voyage.  Ojeda  appealed  to  the  sovereign,  and, 
after  some  time,  was  honorably  acquitted,  by  the  royal 
council,  from  all  the  charges,  and  a  mandate  was  issued  in. 
1503,  ordering  a  restitution  of  his  property.  It  appears, 
however,  that  the  costs  of  justice,  or  rather  of  the  law,  con- 
sumed his  share  of  the  treasure  of  the  strong  box,  and  that 
a  royal  order  was  necessary  to  liberate  him  from  the  hands 
of  the  governor;  so  that,  like  too  many  other  litigants,  he 
finally  emerged  from  the  labyrinths  of  the  law  a  triumphant 
client,  but  a  ruined  man. 


THIRD   VOYAGE   OF   ALONZO  DE  OJEDA 


CHAPTER  ONE 

OJEDA  APPLIES  FOR  A  COMMAND — HAS  A  KIVAL  CAN- 
DIDATE IN  DIEGO  DE  NIOUESA — HIS  SUCCESS 

FOR  several  years  after  his  ruinous  though  successful 
lawsuit  we  lose  all  traces  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  excepting  that 
we  are  told  he  made  another  voyage  to  the  vicinity  of  Coqui- 
bacoa,  in  1505.  No  record  remains  of  this  expedition,  which 
seems  to  have  been  equally  unprofitable  with  the  preceding, 
for  we  find  him,  in  1508,  hi  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  as  poor 
in  purse,  though  as  proud  in  spirit,  as  ever.  In  fact,  how- 
ever fortune  might  have  favored  him,  he  had  a  heedless, 
squandering  disposition  that  would  always  have  kept  him 
poor. 

About  this  time  the  cupidity  of  King  Ferdinand  was 
greatly  excited  by  the  accounts  which  had  been  given  by 
Columbus  of  the  gold  mines  of  Veragua,  in  which  the  ad* 

*  *  *  P  VOL.  V. 


862  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ii)$toi) 

miral  fancied  he  had  discovered  the  Aurea  Chersonesus  of 
the  ancients,  from  whence  King  Solomon  procured  the  gold 
used  in  building  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem.  Subsequent  voy- 
agers had  corroborated  the  opinion  of  Columbus  as  to  the 
general  riches  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma.  King  Ferdinand 
resolved,  therefore,  to  found  regular  colonies  along  that  coast 
and  to  place  the  whole  under  some  capable  commander.  A 
project  of  the  kind  had  been  conceived  by  Columbus  when 
he  discovered  that  region  in  the  course  of  his  last  voyage,  and 
the  reader  may  remember  the  disasters  experienced  by  his 
brother  Don  Bartholomew  and  himself,  in  endeavoring  to 
establish  a  colony  on  the  hostile  shores  of  Veragua.  The 
admiral  being  dead,  the  person  who  should  naturally  have 
presented  himself  to  the  mind  of  the  sovereign  for  this  par- 
ticular service  was  Don  Bartholomew;  but  the  wary  and 
selfish  monarch  knew  the  adelantado  to  be  as  lofty  in  his 
terms  as  his  late  brother,  and  preferred  to  accomplish  his 
purposes  by  cheaper  agents.  He  was  unwilling,  also,  to 
increase  the  consequence  of  a  family  whose  vast,  but  just, 
claims  were  already  a  cause  of  repining  to  his  sordid  and 
jealous  spirit.  He  looked  round,  therefore,  among  the  crowd 
of  adventurers,  who  had  sprung  up  in  the  school  of  Colum- 
bus, for  some  individual  who  might  be  ready  to  serve  him  on 
more  accommodating  terms.  Among  those,  considered  by 
their  friends  as  most  fitted  for  this  purpose,  was  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda;  for  his  roving  voyages  and  daring  exploits  had  made 
him  famous  among  the  voyagers;  and  it  was  thought  that 
an  application  on  his  part  would  be  attended  with  success, 
for  he  was  known  to  possess  a  stanch  friend  at  court  in  the 
Bishop  Fonseca.  Unfortunately  he  was  too  far  distant  to 
urge  his  suit  to  the  bishop,  and,  what  was  worse,  he  was 
destitute  of  money.  At  this  juncture  there  happened  to  be 
at  Hispaniola  the  veteran  navigator  and  pilot,  Juan  de  la 
Cosa,  who  was  a  kind  of  Nestor  in  all  nautical  affairs.*  The 

•  Peter  Martyr  gives  the  following  weighty  testimony  to  the  knowl- 
edge and  skill  of  this  excellent  seaman:  "Of  the  Spaniards,  as  many  as 
thought  themselves  to  have  any  knowledge  of  what  pertained  to  nieas- 


Sparjisl?  l/oya<$es  of  Discovery  363 

hardy  Biscayan  had  sailed  with  Ojeda,  and  had  conceived  a 
great  opinion  of  the  courage  and  talents  of  the  youthful  ad- 
venturer. He  had  contrived,  also,  to  fill  his  purse  in  the 
course  of  his  cruising,  and  now,  in  the  generous  spirit  of  a 
sailor,  offered  to  aid  Ojeda  with  it  in  the  prosecution  of  hia 
wishes. 

His  offer  was  gladly  accepted;  it  was  agreed  that  Juan 
de  la  Cosa  should  depart  for  Spain  to  promote  the  appoint- 
ment of  Ojeda  to  the  command  of  Terra  Finna,  and,  in  case 
of  success,  should  fit  out,  with  his  own  funds,  the  necessary 
armament. 

La  Cosa  departed  on  his  embassy ;  he  called  on  the  Bishop 
Fonseca,  who,  as  had  been  expected,  entered  warmly  into 
the  views  of  his  favorite,  Ojeda,  and  recommended  him  to 
the  ambitious  and  bigot  king,  as  a  man  well  fitted  to  pro- 
mote his  empire  in  the  wilderness  and  to  dispense  the  bless- 
ings of  Christianity  among  the  savages. 

The  recommendation  of  the  bishop  was  usually  effectual 
in  the  affairs  of  the  New  "World,  and  the  opinion  of  the 
veteran  De  la  Cosa  had  great  weight  even  with  the  sovereign; 
but  a  rival  candidate  to  Ojeda  had  presented  himself,  and 
one  who  had  the  advantage  of  higher  connections  and  greater 
pecuniary  means.  This  was  Diego  de  Nicuesa,  an  accom- 
plished courtier  of  noble  birth,  who  had  filled  the  post  of 
grand  carver  to  Don  Enrique  Enriquez,  uncle  of  the  king. 
Nature,  education,  and  habit  seemed  to  have  combined  to 
form  Nicuesa  as  a  complete  rival  of  Ojeda.  Like  him  he 
was  small  of  stature,  but  remarkable  for  symmetry  and  com- 
pactness of  form  and  for  bodily  strength  and  activity;  like 

ure  the  land  and  sea,  drew  cardes  (charts)  on  parchment  as  concerning 
these  navigations.  Of  all  others  they  most  esteem  them  which  Juan 
de  la  Cosa,  the  companion  of  Ojeda,  and  another  pilot,  called  Andres 
Morales,  had  set  forth,  and  this,  as  well  for  the  great  experience  which 
both  had  (to  whom  these  tracks  were  as  well  known  as  the  chambers  of 
their  own  houses),  as  also  that  they  were  thought  to  be  cunninger  in 
that  part  of  cosmography  which  teacheth  the  description  and  measur- 
ing of  the  sea."— P.  Martyr,  Decad.  ii.  c.  10. 


of 

him  he  was  master  afr  all  kinds  of  weapons,  and  skilled,  not 
merely  in  feats  of  agility,  but  in  those  graceful  and  chival- 
rous exercises  which  the  Spanish  cavaliers  of  those  days 
had  inherited  from  the  Moors;  being  noted  for  his  vigor  and 
address  in  the  jousts  or  tilting  matches  after  the  Morisco 
fashion.  Ojeda  himself  could  not  surpass  him  in  feats  of 
horsemanship,  and  particular  mention  is  made  of  a  favorite 
mare,  which  he  could  make  caper  and  caracole  in  strict  ca- 
dence to  the  sound  of  a  viol ;  besides  all  this,  he  was  versed  in 
the  legendary  ballads  or  romances  of  his  country,  and  was 
renowned  as  a  capital  performer  on  the  guitar!  Such  were 
the  qualifications  of  this  candidate  for  a  command  in  the 
wilderness,  as  enumerated  by  the  reverend  Bishop  Las  Casas. 
It  is  probable,  however,  that  he  had  given  evidence  of  quali* 
ties  more  adapted  to  the  desired  post ;  having  already  been 
out  to  Hispaniola  in  the  military  train  of  the  late  Governor 
Ovando. 

Where  merits  were  so  singularly  balanced  as  those  of 
Ojeda  and  Nicuesa,  it  might  have  been  difficult  to  decide. 
King  Ferdinand  avoided  the  dilemma  by  favoring  both  of 
the  candidates;  not  indeed  by  furnishing  them  with  ships 
and  money,  but  by  granting  patents  and  dignities  which 
cost  nothing,  and  might  bring  rich  returns. 

He  divided  that  part  of  the  continent  which  lies  along 
the  Isthmus  of  Darien  into  two  provinces,  the  boundary  line 
running  through  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  The  eastern  part,  ex- 
tending to  Cape  de  la  Vela,  was  called  New  Andalusia,  and 
the  government  of  it  given  to  Ojeda.  The  other,  to  the  west, 
including  Veragua,  and  reaching  to  Cape  Gracias  a  Dios, 
was  assigned  to  Nicuesa.  The  island  of  Jamaica  was  given 
to  the  two  governors  in  common,  as  a  place  from  whence  to 
draw  supplies  of  provisions.  Each  of  the  governors  was  to 
erect  two  fortresses  in  his  district,  and  to  enjoy  for  ten  years 
the  profits  of  all  the  mines  he  should  discover,  paying  to  the 
crown  one-tenth  part  the  first  year,  one-ninth  the  second, 
one-eighth  the  third,  one-seventh  the  fourth,  and  one-fifth 
part  in  each  of  the  remaining  years. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  365 

Juan  de  la  Cosa,  who  had  been  indefatigable  in  promoting 
the  suit  of  Ojeda,  was  appointed  his  lieutenant  in  the  govern- 
ment, with  the  post  of  Alguazil  Mayor  of  the  province.  He 
immediately  freighted  a  ship  and  two  brigantines,  in  which 
he  embarked  with  about  two  hundred  men.  It  was  a  slender 
armament,  but  the  purse  of  the  honest  voyager  was  not  very 
deep,  and  that  of  Ojeda  was  empty.  Nicuesa,  having 
ampler  means,  armed  four  large  vessels  and  two  brigantines, 
furnished  them  with  abundant  munitions  and  supplies,  both 
for  the  voyage  and  the  projected  colony,  enlisted  a  much 
greater  force,  and  set  sail  in  gay  and  vaunting  style  for  the 
golden  shores  of  Veragua,  the  Aurea  Chersonesus  of  his 
imagination. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

FEUD    BETWEEN   THE   RIVAL    GOVERNORS,   OJEDA    AND 
NICUESA — A  CHALLENGE — (1509) 

THE  two  rival  armaments  arrived  at  San  Domingo  about 
the  same  time.  Nicuesa  had  experienced  what  was  doubtless 
considered  a  pleasant  little  turn  of  fortune  by  the  way. 
Touching  at  Santa  Cruz,  one  of  the  Caribee  islands,  he 
had  succeeded  in  capturing  a.  hundred  of  the  natives,  whom 
he  had  borne  off  in  his  ships  to  be  sold  as  slaves  at  Hispani- 
ola.  This  was  deemed  justifiable  in  those  days,  even  by  the 
most  scrupulous  divines,  from  the  belief  that  the  Caribs  were 
all  anthropophagi,  or  man-eaters;  fortunately  the  opinion  of 
mankind,  in  this  more  enlightened  age,  makes  but  little  dif- 
ference in  atrocity  between  the  cannibal  and  the  kidnaper. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  welcomed  with  joy  the  arrival  of  his 
nautical  friend  and  future  lieutenant  in  the  government,  the 
worthy  Juan  de  la  Cosa;  still  he  could  not  but  feel  some 
mortification  at  the  inferiority  of  his  armament  to  that  of 
his  rival  Nicuesa,  whose  stately  ships  rode  proudly  at  anchor 
in  the  harbor  of  San  Domingo.  He  felt,  too,  that  his  means 


of 

were  inadequate  to  the  establishment  of  his  intended  colony. 
Ojeda,  however,  was  not  long  at  a  loss  for  pecuniary  assist- 
ance. Like  many  free-spirited  men,  who  are  careless  and 
squandering  of  their  own  purses,  he  had  a  facility  at  com- 
manding the  purses  of  his  neighbors.  Among  the  motley 
population  of  San  Domingo  there  was  a  lawyer  of  some 
abilities,  the  Bachelor  Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso,  who  had 
made  two  thousand  castillanos  by  his  pleading;*  for  it  would 
appear  that  the  spirit  of  litigation  was  one  of  the  first  fruits 
of  civilized  life  transplanted  to  the  New  World,  and  flour- 
ished surprisingly  among  the  Spanish  colonists. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  became  acquainted  with  the  bachelor, 
and  finding  him  to  be  of  a  restless  and  speculative  character, 
soon  succeeded  in  inspiring  him  with  a  contempt  for  the  dull 
but  secure  and  profitable  routine  of  his  office  in  San  Domingo, 
and  imbuing  him  with  his  own  passion  for  adventure. 
Above  all,  he  dazzled  him  with  the  offer  to  make  him  alcalde 
mayor  or  chief  judge  of  the  provincial  government  he  was 
about  to  establish  in  the  wilderness. 

In  an  evil  hour  the  aspiring  bachelor  yielded  to  the 
temptation,  and  agreed  to  invest  all  his  money  in  the  enter- 
prise. It  was  agreed  that  Ojeda  should  depart  with  the 
armanent  which  had  arrived  from  Spain,  while  the  bachelor 
should  remain  at  Hispaniola  to  beat  up  for  recruits  and  pro- 
vide supplies ;  with  these  he  was  to  embark  in  a  ship  pur- 
chased by  himself,  and  proceed  to  join  his  high-mettled  friend 
at  the  seat  of  his  intended  colony.  Two  rival  governors,  so 
well  matched  as  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa,  and  both  possessed  of 
swelling  spirits,  pent  up  in  small  but  active  bodies,  could  not 
remain  long  in  a  little  place  like  San  Domingo  without  some 
collision.  The  island  of  Jamaica,  which  had  been  assigned 
to  them  in  common,  furnished  the  first  ground  of  contention; 
the  province  of  Darien  furnished  another,  each  pretending  to 
include  it  within  the  limits  of  his  jurisdiction.  Their  dis- 
putes on  these  points  ran  so  high  that  the  whole  place  re- 

*  Equivalent  to  10,650  dollars  of  the  present  day. 


l/oya^es  of  Discovery  367 

sounded  with  them.  In  talking,  however,  Nicuesa  had  the 
advantage;  having  been  brought  up  in  court,  he  was  more 
polished  and  ceremonious,  had  greater  self-command,  and 
probably  perplexed  his  rival  governor  in  argument.  Ojeda 
was  no  great  casuist,  but  he  was  an  excellent  swordsman, 
and  always  ready  to  fight  his  way  through  any  question  of 
right  or  dignity  which  he  could  not  clearly  argue  with  the 
tongue;  so  he  proposed  to  settle  the  dispute  by  single  com- 
bat. Nicuesa,  though  equally  brave,  was  more  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  saw  the  folly  of  such  arbitrament.  Secretly 
smiling  at  the  heat  of  his  antagonist,  he  proposed,  as  a  pre- 
liminary to  the  duel,  and  to  furnish  something  worth  fighting 
for,  that  each  should  deposit  five  thousand  castillanos,  to  be 
the  prize  of  the  victor.  This,  as  he  foresaw,  was  a  tem- 
porary check  upon  the  fiery  valor  of  his  rival,  who  did  not 
possess  a  pistole  in  his  treasury ;  but  probably  was  too  proud 
to  confess  it. 

It  is  not  likely,  however,  that  the  impetuous  spirit  of 
Ojeda  would  long  have  remained  in  check,  had  not  the  dis- 
creet Juan  de  la  Cosa  interposed  to  calm  it.  It  is  interesting 
to  notice  the  great  ascendency  possessed  by  this  veteran 
navigator  over  his  fiery  associate.  Juan  de  la  Cosa  was  a 
man  whose  strong  natural  good  sense  had  been  quickened  by 
long  and  hard  experience;  whose  courage  was  above  all 
question,  but  tempered  by  time  and  trial.  He  seems  to  have 
been  personally  attached  to  Ojeda,  as  veterans  who  have 
outlived  the  rash  impulse  of  youthful  valor  are  apt  to  love 
the  fiery  quality  in  their  younger  associates.  So  long  as  he 
accompanied  Ojeda  in  his  enterprises,  he  stood  by  him  as  a 
mentor  in  council  and  a  devoted  partisan  in  danger. 

In  the  present  instance  the  interference  of  this  veteran  ot 
the  seas  had  the  most  salutary  effect ;  he  prevented  the  im- 
pending duel  of  the  rival  governors,  and  persuaded  them  to 
agree  that  the  river  Darien  should  be  the  boundary  line  be- 
tween their  respective  jurisdictions. 

The  dispute  relative  to  Jamaica  was  settled  by  the  Ad- 
miral Don  Diego  Columbus  himself.  He  had  already  felt 


368  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi?  Irufr>$ 

aggrieved  by  the  distribution  of  these  governments  by  the 
king,  without  his  consent  or  even  knowledge,  being  contrary 
to  the  privileges  which  he  inherited  from  his  father,  the  dis- 
coverer. It  was  in  vain  to  contend,  however,  when  the 
matter  was  beyond  his  reach  and  involved  in  technical  dis- 
putes. But  as  to  the  island  of  Jamaica,  it  in  a  manner  lay 
at  his  own  door,  and  he  could  not  brook  its  being  made  a 
matter  of  gift  to  these  brawling  governors.  Without  waiting 
the  slow  and  uncertain  course  of  making  remonstrances  to 
the  king,  he  took  the  affair,  as  a  matter  of  plain  right,  into 
his  own  hands  and  ordered  a  brave  officer,  Juan  de  Esquibel, 
the  same  who  had  subjugated  the  province  of  Higuey,  to  take 
possession  of  that  island,  with  seventy  men,  and  to  hold  it 
subject  to  his  command. 

Ojeda  did  not  hear  of  this  arrangement  until  he  was  on 
the  point  of  embarking  to  make  sail.  In  the  heat  of  the 
moment  he  loudly  defied  the  power  of  the  admiral,  and  swore 
that  if  he  ever  found  Juan  de  Esquibel  on  the  island  of 
Jamaica  he  would  strike  off  his  head.  The  populace  present 
heard  this  menace,  and  had  too  thorough  an  idea  of  the  fiery 
and  daring  character  of  Ojeda  to  doubt  that  he  would  carry 
it  into  effect.  Notwithstanding  his  bravado,  however,  Juan 
de  Esquibel  proceeded  according  to  his  orders  to  take  posses- 
sion of  the  island  of  Jamaica. 

The  squadron  of  Nicuesa  lingered  for  some  time  after  the 
sailing  of  his  rival.  His  courteous  and  engaging  manners, 
aided  by  the  rumor  of  great  riches  in  the  province  of  Ver- 
agua,  where  he  intended  to  found  his  colony,  had  drawn 
numerous  volunteers  to  his  standard,  insomuch  that  he  had 
to  purchase  another  ship  to  convey  them. 

Nicuesa  was  more  of  the  courtier  and  the  cavalier  than 
the  man  of  business,  and  had  no  skill  in  managing  his 
pecuniary  affairs.  He  had  expended  his  funds  with  a  free 
and  lavish  hand,  and  involved  himself  in  debts  which  he  had 
not  the  immediate  means  of  paying.  Many  of  his  creditors 
knew  that  his  expedition  was  regarded  with  an  evil  eye  by 
the  admiral,  Don  Diego  Columbus;  to  gain  favor  with  the 


Spapisf?  Voyages  of  Discovery  369 

latter,  therefore,  they  threw  all  kinds  of  impediments  in  the 
way  of  Nicuesa.  Never  was  an  unfortunate  gentleman  more 
harassed  and  distracted  by  duns  and  demands,  one  plucking 
at  his  skirts  as  soon  as  the  other  was  satisfied.  He  suc- 
ceeded, however,  in  getting  all  his  forces  embarked.  He 
had  seven  hundred  men,  well  chosen  and  well  armed,  to- 
gether with  six  horses.  He  chose  Lope  de  Olano  to  be  his 
captain-general,  a  seemingly  impolitic  appointment,  as  this 
Olano  had  been  concerned  with  the  notorious  Roldan  in  his 
rebellion  against  Columbus. 

The  squadron  sailed  out  of  the  harbor  and  put  to  sea, 
excepting  one  ship,  which,  with  anchor  a-trip  and  sails 
unfurled,  waited  to  receive  Nicuesa,  who  was  detained  on 
shore  until  the  last  moment  by  the  perplexities  which  had 
been  artfully  multiplied  around  him. 

Just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  stepping  into  his  boat  he 
was  arrested  by  the  harpies  of  the  law,  and  carried  before 
the  alcalde  mayor,  to  answer  a  demand  for  five  hundred 
ducats,  which  he  was  ordered  to  pay  on  the  spot  or  prepare 
to  go  to  prison. 

This  was  a  thunderstroke  to  the  unfortunate  cavalier.  In 
vain  he  represented  his  utter  incapacity  to  furnish  such  a 
sum  at  the  moment ;  in  vain  he  represented  the  ruin  that 
would  accrue  to  himself  and  the  vast  injury  to  the  public 
service,  should  he  be  prevented  from  joining  his  expedition. 
The  alcalde  mayor  was  inflexible,  and  Nicuesa  was  reduced 
to  despair.  At  this  critical  moment  relief  came  from  a  most 
unexpected  quarter.  The  heart  of  a  public  notary  was  melted 
by  his  distress!  He  stepped  forward  in  court  and  declared 
that  rather  than  see  so  gallant  a  gentleman  reduced  to  ex- 
tremity he  himself  would  pay  down  the  money.  Nicuesa 
gazed  at  him  with  astonishment,  and  could  scarcely  believe 
his  senses ;  but  when  he  saw  him  actually  pay  off  the  debt, 
and  found  himself  suddenly  released  from  this  dreadful  em- 
barrassment, he  embraced  his  deliverer  with  tears  of  grati- 
tude, and  hastened  with  all  speed  to  embark,  lest  some  other 
legal  spell  should  be  laid  upon  his  person. 


570  WorKe  of  U/aebir^tor)  Irvfr}$ 


CHAPTER  THREE 

EXPLOITS   AND   DISASTERS    OF   OJEDA  ON  THE  COAST  OF 

CARTHAGENA — FATE   OF   THE   VETERAN   JUAN  DE 

LA    COSA— (1509) 

IT  was  on  the  10th  of  November,  1509,  that  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda  set  sail  from  San  Domingo  with  two  ships,  two  brigan- 
tines,  and  three  hundred  men.  He  took  with  him  also  twelve 
brood  mares.  Among  the  remarkable  adventurers  who  em- 
barked with  him  was  Francisco  Pizarro,  who  was  afterward 
renowned  as  the  conqueror  of  Peru.*  Hernando  Cortez  had 
likewise  intended  to  sail  in  the  expedition,  but  was  prevented 
by  an  inflammation  in  one  of  his  knees. 

The  voyage  was  speedy  and  prosperous,  and  they  arrived 
late  in  the  autumn  in  the  harbor  of  Carthagena.  The  vet- 
eran Juan  de  la  Cosa  was  well  acquainted  with  this  place, 
having  sailed  as  pilot  with  Rodrigo  de  Bastides,  at  the  time 
he  discovered  it  in  1501.  He  warned  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  to  be 
upon  his  guard,  as  the  natives  were  a  brave  and  warlike 

*  Francisco  Pizarro  was  a  native  of  Truxillo  in  Estremadura.  He 
was  the  illegitimate  fruit  of  an  amour  between  Gonsalvo  Pizarro,  a 
veteran  captain  of  infantry,  and  a  damsel  in  low  life.  His  childhood 
was  passed  in  groveling'  occupations  incident  to  the  humble  condition 
of  his  mother,  and  he  is  said  to  have  been  a  swineherd.  When  he  had 
sufficiently  increased  in  years  and  stature,  he  enlisted  as  a  soldier.  His 
first  campaigns  may  have  been  against  the  Moors  in  the  war  of  Gra- 
nada. He  certainly  served  in  Italy  under  the  banner  of  the  Great  Cap- 
tain, Gonsalvo  of  Cordova.  His  roving  spirit  then  induced  him  to  join 
the  bands  of  adventurers  to  the  New  World.  He  was  of  ferocious  cour- 
age, and,  when  engaged  in  any  enterprise,  possessed  an  obstinate  per- 
severance that  was  neither  to  be  deterred  by  danger,  weakened  by 
fatigue  and  hardship,  nor  checked  by  repeated  disappointment.  After 
having  conquered  the  great  kingdom  of  Peru,  he  was  assassinated,  at 
an  advanced  age,  in  1541,  defending  himself  bravely  to  the  last. 


Spaqisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  371 

race,  of  Carib  origin,  far  different  from  the  soft  and  gentle 
inhabitants  of  the  islands.  They  wielded  great  swords  of 
palm-wood,  defended  themselves  with  osier  targets,  and 
dipped  their  arrows  in  a  subtle  poison.  The  women,  as  well 
as  the  men,  mingled  in  battle,  being  expert  in  drawing  the 
bow  and  throwing  a  species  of  lance  called  the  azagay.  The 
warning  was  well  timed,  for  the  Indians  of  these  parts  had 
been  irritated  by  the  misconduct  of  previous  adventurers, 
and  flew  to  arms  on  the  first  appearance  of  the  ships. 

Juan  de  la  Cosa  now  feared  for  the  safety  of  the  enter- 
prise in  which  he  had  person,  fortune,  and  official  dignity  at 
stake.  He  earnestly  advised  Ojeda  to  abandon  this  danger- 
ous neighborhood,  and  to  commence  a  settlement  in  the  Gulf 
of  Uraba,  where  the  people  were  less  ferocious  and  did  not 
use  poisoned  weapons.  Ojeda  was  too  proud  of  spirit  to  alter 
nis  plans  through  fear  of  a  naked  foe.  It  is  thought,  too, 
that  he  had  no  objection  to  a  skirmish,  being  desirous  of  a 
pretext  to  make  slaves  to  be  sent  to  Hispaniola  in  discharge 
of  the  debts  he  had  left  unpaid.  *  He  landed,  therefore,  with 
a  considerable  part  of  his  force,  and  a  number  of  friars,  who 
had  been  sent  out  to  convert  the  Indians.  His  faithful  lieu* 
tenant,  being  unable  to  keep  him  out  of  danger,  stood  by  to 
second  him. 

Ojeda  advanced  toward  the  savages,  and  ordered  the 
friars  to  read  aloud  a  certain  formula  which  had  recently 
been  digested  by  profound  jurists  and  divines  in  Spain.  It 
began  in  stately  form.  "I,  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  servant  of  the 
most  high  and  mighty  sovereigns  of  Castile  and  Leon,  con- 
querors of  barbarous  nations,  their  messenger  and  captain, 
do  notify  unto  you,  and  make  you  know,  in  the  best  way  I 
can,  that  God  our  Lord,  one  and  eternal,  created  the  heaven 
and  the  earth,  and  one  man  and  one  woman,  from  whom 
you  and  we,  and  all  the  people  of  the  earth  proceeded,  and 
are  descendants,  as  well  as  those  who  shall  come  hereafter." 
The  formula  then  went  on  to  declare  the  fundamental  prin- 

*  Las  Casas.     Hist.  Ind.  1.  ii.  c.  57.  MS. 


372  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir?$toi}  Iruir?$ 

oiples  of  the  Catholic  faith;  the  supreme  power  given  to  St. 
Peter  over  the  world  and  all  the  human  race,  and  exercised 
by  his  representative  the  Pope ;  the  donation  made  by  a  late 
Pope  of  all  this  part  of  the  world  and  all  its  inhabitants  to 
the  Catholic  sovereigns  of  Castile;  and  the  ready  obedience 
which  had  already  been  paid  by  many  of  its  lands  and  islands 
and  people  to  the  agents  and  representatives  of  those  sover- 
eigns. It  called  upon  those  savages  present,  therefore,  to 
do  the  same,  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  Christian  doc- 
trines, the  supremacy  of  the  Pope,  and  the  sovereignty  of 
the  Catholic  king,  but,  in  case  of  refusal,  it  denounced  upon 
them  all  the  horrors  of  war,  the  desolation  of  their  dwellings, 
the  seizure  of  their  property,  and  the  slavery  of  their  wives 
and  children.  Such  was  the  extraordinary  document,  which, 
from  this  time  forward,  was  read  by  the  Spanish  discoverers 
to  the  wondering  savages  of  any  newly-found  country  as  a 
prelude  to  sanctify  the  violence  about  to  be  inflicted  on  them.* 

When  the  friars  had  read  this  pious  manifesto,  Ojeda 
made  signs  of  amity  to  the  natives,  and  held  up  glittering 
presents;  they  had  already  suffered,  however,  from  the 
cruelties  of  the  white  men,  and  were  not  to  be  won  by  kind- 
ness. On  the  contrary,  they  brandished  their  weapons, 
sounded  their  conchs,  and  prepared  to  make  battle. 

Juan  de  la  Cosa  saw  the  rising  choler  of  Ojeda  and  knew 
his  fiery  impatience.  He  again  entreated  him  to  abandon 
these  hostile  shores,  and  reminded  him  of  the  venomous 
weapons  of  the  enemy.  It  was  all  in  vain :  Ojeda  confided 
blindly  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin.  Putting  up,  as 
usual,  a  short  prayer  to  his  patroness,  he  drew  his  weapon, 
braced  his  buckler,  and  charged  furiously  upon  the  savages. 
Juan  de  la  Cosa  followed  as  heartily  as  if  the  battle  had  been 
of  his  own  seeking.  The  Indians  were  soon  routed,  a  num- 
ber killed,  and  several  taken  prisoners;  on  their  persons  were 
found  plates  of  gold,  but  of  an  inferior  quality.  Flushed  by 


*  The  reader  will  find  the  complete  form  of  this  curious  manifesto 
in  the  Appendix. 


Spai)isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  373 

this  triumph,  Ojeda  took  several  of  the  prisoners  as  guides, 
and  pursued  the  flying  enemy  four  leagues  into  the  interior. 
He  was  followed,  as  usual,  by  his  faithful  lieutenant,  the 
veteran  La  Cosa,  continually  remonstrating  against  his  use- 
less temerity,  but  hardily  seconding  him  in  the  most  hare- 
brained perils.  Having  penetrated  far  into  the  forest,  they 
came  to  a  stronghold  of  the  enemy,  where  a  numerous  force 
was  ready  to  receive  them,  armed  with  clubs,  lances,  arrows, 
and  bucklers.  Ojeda  led  his  men  to  the  charge  with  the  old 
Castilian  war  cry,  "Santiago!"  The  savages  soon  took  to 
flight.  Eight  of  their  bravest  warriors  threw  themselves 
into  a  cabin,  and  plied  their  bows  and  arrows  so  vigorously 
that  the  Spaniards  were  kept  at  bay.  Ojeda  cried  shame 
upon  his  followers  to  be  daunted  by  eight  naked  men.  Stung 
by  this  reproach,  an  old  Castilian  soldier  rushed  through  a 
shower  of  arrows,  and  forced  the  door  of  the  cabin;  but 
received  a  shaft  through  the  heart,  and  fell  dead  on  the 
threshold.  Ojeda,  furious  at  the  sight,  ordered  fire  to  be 
set  to  the  combustible  edifice;  in  a  moment  it  was  in  a  blaze, 
and  the  eight  warriors  perished  in  the  flames. 

Seventy  Indians  were  made  captive  and  sent  to  the  ships, 
and  Ojeda,  regardless  of  the  remonstrances  of  Juan  de  la 
Cosa,  continued  his  rash  pursuit  of  the  fugitives  through  the 
forest.  In  the  dusk  of  the  evening  they  arrived  at  a  village 
called  Yurbaco;  the  inhabitants  of  which  had  fled  to  the 
mountains  with  their  wives  and  children  and  principal 
effects.  The  Spaniards,  imagining  that  the  Indians  were 
completely  terrified  and  dispersed,  now  roved  in  quest  of 
booty  among  the  deserted  houses,  which  stood  distant  from 
each  other,  buried  among  the  trees.  "While  they  were  thus 
scattered,  troops  of  savages  rushed  forth,  with  furious  yells, 
from  all  parts  of  the  forest.  The  Spaniards  endeavored  to 
gather  together  and  support  each  other,  but  every  little  party 
was  surrounded  by  a  host  of  foes.  They  fought  with  des- 
perate bravery,  but  for  once  their  valor  and  their  iron  armor 
were  of  no  avail ;  they  were  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  and 
sank  beneath  war-clubs  and  poisoned  arrows. 


374:  U/orl^s  of 

Ojeda  on  the  first  alarm  collected  a  few  soldiers  and  en- 
sconced himself  within  a  small  inclosure,  surrounded  by  pali- 
sades. Here  he  was  closely  besieged  and  galled  by  flights  of 
arrows.  He  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  covered  himself  with 
his  buckler,  and,  being  small  and  active,  managed  to  protect 
himself  from  the  deadly  shower,  but  all  his  companions  were 
slain  by  his  side,  some  of  them  perishing  in  frightful  agonies. 
At  this  fearful  moment  the  veteran  La  Cosa,  having  heard 
of  the  peril  of  his  commander,  arrived,  with  a  few  followers, 
to  his  assistance.  Stationing  himself  at  the  gate  of  the  pali- 
sades, the  brave  Biscayan  kept  the  savages  at  bay  until  most 
of  his  men  were  slain  and  he  himself  was  severely  wounded. 
Just  then  Ojeda  sprang  forth  like  a  tiger  into  the  midst  of 
the  enemy,  dealing  his  blows  on  every  side.  La  Cosa  would 
have  seconded  him,  but  was  crippled  by  his  wounds.  He 
took  refuge  with  the  remnant  of  his  men  in  an  Indian  cabin ; 
the  straw  roof  of  which  he  aided  them  to  throw  off,  lest  the 
enemy  should  set  it  on  fire.  Here  he  defended  himself  until 
all  his  comrades  but  one  were  destroyed.  The  subtle  poison 
of  his  wounds  at  length  overpowered  him,  and  he  sank  to  the 
ground.  Feeling  death  at  hand,  he  called  to  his  only  surviv- 
ing companion.  "Brother,"  said  he,  "since  God  hath  pro- 
tected thee  from  harm,  sally  forth  and  fly,  and  if  ever  thou 
shouldst  see  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  tell  him  of  my  fate!" 

Thus  fell  the  hardy  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  faithful  and  devoted 
to  the  very  last ;  nor  can  we  refrain  from  pausing  to  pay  a 
passing  tribute  to  his  memory.  He  was  acknowledged  by 
his  contemporaries  to  be  one  of  the  ablest  of  those  gallant 
Spanish  navigators  who  first  explored  the  way  to  the  New 
"World*  But  it  is  by  the  honest  and  kindly  qualities  of  his 
heart  that  his  memory  is  most  endeared  to  us ;  it  is,  above 
all,  by  that  loyalty  in  friendship  displayed  in  this  his  last 
and  fatal  expedition.  Warmed  by  his  attachment  for  a  more 
youthful  and  a  hot-headed  adventurer,  we  see  this  wary  vet- 
eran of  the  seas  f  orgetting  his  usual  prudence  and  the  lessons 
of  his  experience,  and  embarking,  heart  and  hand,  purse  and 
person,  in  the  wild  enterprises  of  his  favorite.  We  behold 


Spaijisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  875 

him  watching  over  him  as  a  parent,  remonstrating  with  him 
as  a  counselor,  but  fighting  by  him  as  a  partisan ;  following 
him,  without  hesitation,  into  known  and  needless  danger,  to 
certain  death  itself,  and  showing  no  other  solicitude  in  his 
dying  moments  but  to  be  remembered  by  his  friend. 

The  histories  of  these  Spanish  discoveries  abound  in  noble 
and  generous  traits  of  character,  but  few  nave  charmed  us 
more  than  this  instance  of  loyalty  to  the  last  gasp,  in  the 
death  of  the  stanch  Jaan  de  la  Cosa.  The  Spaniard  who 
escaped  to  tell  the  story  of  his  end  was  the  only  survivor  of 
seventy  that  had  followed  Ojeda  in  this  rash  and  headlong 
inroad. 


CHAPTER   FOUR 

ARRIVAL  OP  NICUESA — VENGEANCE  TAKEN  ON  THE  INDIANS 

WHILE  these  disastrous  occurrences  happened  on  shore, 
great  alarm  began  to  be  felt  on  board  of  the  ships.  Days 
had  elapsed  since  the  party  had  adventured  so  rashly  into 
the  wilderness;  yet  nothing  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  them, 
and  the  forest  spread  a  mystery  over  their  fate.  Some  of  the 
Spaniards  ventured  a  little  distance  into  the  woods,  but  were 
deterred  by  the  distant  shouts  and  yells  of  the  savages,  and 
the  noise  of  their  conchs  and  drums.  Armed  detachments 
then  coasted  the  shore  in  boats,  landing  occasionally,  climb- 
ing the  rocks  and  promontories,  firing  signal-guns,  and  sound- 
ing trumpets.  It  was  all  in  vain ;  they  heard  nothing  but  the 
echoes  of  their  own  noises,  or  perhaps  the  wild  whoop  of  an 
Indian  from  the  bosom  of  the  forest.  At  length,  when  they 
were  about  to  give  up  the  search  in  despair,  they  came  to  a 
great  thicket  of  mangrove  trees  on  the  margin  of  the  sea. 
These  trees  grow  within  the  water,  but  their  roots  rise,  and 
are  intertwined,  above  the  surface.  In  this  entangled  and 
almost  impervious  grove  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  man  in 
Spanish  attire.  They  entered,  and,  to  their  astonishment, 
found  it  to  be  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  He  was  lying  on  the  matted 


£76  U/orXs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi7 

roots  of  the  mangroves,  his  buckler  on  his  shoulder  and  his 
sword  in  his  hand ;  but  so  wasted  with  hunger  and  fatigue 
that  he  could  not  speak.  They  bore  him  to  the  firm  land; 
made  a  fire  on  the  shore  to  warm  him,  for  he  was  chilled 
with  the  damp  and  cold  of  his  hiding-place,  and  when  he 
was  a  little  revived  they  gave  him  food  and  wine.  In  this 
way  he  gradually  recovered  strength  to  tell  his  doleful  story.* 
He  had  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way  through  the  host  of 
savages,  and  attaining  the  woody  skirts  of  the  mountains; 
but  when  he  found  himself  alone,  and  that  all  his  brave  men 
had  been  cut  off,  he  was  ready  to  yield  up  in  despair.  Bit- 
terly did  he  reproach  himself  for  having  disregarded  the  ad- 
vice of  the  veteran  La  Cosa,  and  deeply  did  he  deplore  the 
loss  of  that  loyal  follower,  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  his  de- 
votion. He  scarce  knew  which  way  to  bend  his  course,  but 
continued  on,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  and  of  the  forest, 
until  out  of  hearing  of  the  yells  of  triumph  uttered  by  the 
savages  over  the  bodies  of  his  men.  When  the  day  broke, 
he  sought  the  rudest  parts  of  the  mountains,  and  hid  himself 
until  the  night ;  then  struggling  forward  among  rocks,  and 
precipices,  and  matted  forests,  he  made  his  way  to  the  sea- 
Bide,  but  was  too  much  exhausted  to  reach  the  ships.  In- 
deed it  was  wonderful  that  one  so  small  of  frame  should  have 
been  able  to  endure  such  great  hardships ;  but  he  was  of  ad' 
mirable  strength  and  hardihood.  His  followers  considered 
his  escape  from  death  as  little  less  than  miraculous,  and  he 
himself  regarded  it  as  another  proof  of  the  special  protection 
of  the  Virgin;  for,  though  he  had,  as  usual,  received  no 

*  The  picture  here  given  is  so  much  like  romance  that  the  author 
quotes  his  authority  at  length. — "Llegaron  adonde  havia,  junto  al  agua 
de  la  mar,  unos  Manglares,  que  son  arboles,  que  siempre  nacen,  i  crecen 
i  permanecen  dentro  del  agua  de  la  mar,  con  grandes  raices,  asidas,  i 
enmarafLadas  unas  con  otras,  i  alii  metido,  i  escondido  hallaron  a  Alonzo 
de  Ojeda,  con  su  espada  en  la  mano,  i  la  rodela  en  las  espaldas,  i  en  ella 
sob  re  trecientas  senates  de  flechazos.  Estabo  descaido  de  hambre,  que 
no  podia  hechar  de  si  la  habla;  i  si  no  fuera  tan  robusto,  aunque  chico 
da  cuerpo,  fuera  muerto." 

Las  Casas,  1.  ii.  c.  58,  MS.  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind    D.  i  .'   vii.  c.  15. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  377 

wound,  yet  it  is  said  his  buckler  bore  the  dints  of  upward  of 
three  hundred  arrows.* 

"While  the  Spaniards  were  yet  on  the  shore,  administering 
to  the  recovery  of  their  commander,  they  beheld  a  squadron 
of  ships  standing  toward  the  harbor  of  Carthagena,  and  soon 
perceived  them  to  be  the  ships  of  Nicuesa.  Ojeda  was  troubled 
in  mind  at  the  sight,  recollecting  his  late  intemperate  defiance 
of  that  cavalier;  and  reflecting  that,  should  he  seek  him  in 
enmity,  he  was  in  no  situation  to  maintain  his  challenge  op 
defend  himself.  He  ordered  his  men,  therefore,  to  return  on 
board  the  ships  and  leave  him  alone  on  the  shore,  and  not  to 
reveal  the  place  of  his  retreat  while  Nicuesa  should  remain 
in  the  harbor. 

As  the  squadron  entered  the  harbor,  the  boats  sallied  forth 
to  meet  it.  The  first  inquiry  of  Nicuesa  was  concerning  Ojeda. 
The  followers  of  the  latter  replied,  mournfully,  that  their  com- 
mander had  gone  on  a  warlike  expedition  into  the  country, 
but  days  had  elapsed  without  his  return,  so  that  they  feared 
some  misfortune  had  befallen  him.  They  entreated  Nicuesa, 
therefore,  to  give  his  word,  as  a  cavalier,  that  should  Ojeda 
really  be  in  distress,  he  would  not  take  advantage  of  his  mis- 
fortunes to  revenge  himself  for  their  late  disputes. 

Nicuesa,  who  was  a  gentleman  of  noble  and  generous 
spirit,  blushed  with  indignation  at  such  a  request.  "Seek 
your  commander  instantly,"  said  he;  "bring  him  to  me  if 
he  be  alive ;  and  I  pledge  myself  not  merely  to  forget  the 
past,  but  to  aid  him  as  if  he  were  a  brother."  f 

When  they  met,  Nicuesa  received  his  late  foe  with  open 
arms.  "It  is  not,"  said  he,  "for  hidalgos,  like  men  of  vul- 
gar souls,  to  remember  past  differences  when  they  behold 
one  another  in  distress.  Henceforth,  let  all  that  has  occurred 
between  us  be  forgotten.  Command  me  as  a  brother.  My- 
self and  my  men  are  at  your  orders,  to  follow  you  wherever 
you  please,  until  the  deaths  of  Juan  de  la  Cosa  and  his  com- 
rades are  revenged." 

The  spirits  of  Ojeda  were  once  more  lifted  up  by  this  gal- 

*  Las  Casas,  ubi.  sup.  f  Las  Casas,  ubi.  sup. 


378  U/orks  of  U/asl?ir;$tor>  Irufr;$ 

lant  and  generous  offer.  The  two  governors,  no  longer  ri* 
vals,  landed  four  hundred  of  their  men  and  several  horses, 
and  set  off  with  all  speed  for  the  fatal  village.  They  ap- 
proached it  in  the  night,  and,  dividing  their  forces  into  two 
parties,  gave  orders  that  not  an  Indian  should  be  taken  alive. 

The  village  was  buried  in  deep  sleep,  but  the  woods  were 
filled  with  large  parrots,  which,  being  awakened,  made  a 
prodigious  clamor.  The  Indians,  however,  thinking  the 
Spaniards  all  destroyed,  paid  no  attention  to  these  noises. 
It  was  not  until  their  houses  were  assailed,  and  wrapped  in 
flames,  that  they  took  the  alarm.  They  rushed  forth,  some 
with  arms,  some  weaponless,  but  were  received  at  their  doors 
by  the  exasperated  Spaniards,  and  either  slain  on  the  spot 
or  driven  back  into  the  fire.  "Women  fled  wildly  forth  with 
children  in  their  arms,  but  at  sight  of  the  Spaniards  glitter- 
ing in  steel,  and  of  the  horses,  which  they  supposed  ravenous 
monsters,  they  ran  back,  shrieking  with  horror,  into  their 
burning  habitations.  Great  was  the  carnage,  for  no  quarter 
was  shown  to  age  or  sex.  Many  perished  by  the  fire,  and 
many  by  the  sword. 

When  they  had  fully  glutted  their  vengeance,  the  Span- 
iards ranged  about  for  booty.  "While  thus  employed,  they 
found  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  Juan  de  la  Cosa.  It  was 
tied  to  a  tree,  but  swollen  and  discolored  in  a  hideous  man- 
ner by  the  poison  of  the  arrows  with  which  he  had  been 
slain.  This  dismal  spectacle  had  such  an  effect  upon  the 
common  men  that  not  one  would  remain  in  that  place  during 
the  night.  Having  sacked  the  village,  therefore,  they  left 
it  a  smoking  ruin,  and  returned  in  triumph  to  their  ships. 
The  spoil  in  gold  and  other  articles  of  value  must  have  been 
great,  for  the  share  of  Nicuesa  and  his  men  amounted  to  the 
value  of  seven  thousand  castillanos.*  The  two  governors, 
now  faithful  confederates,  parted  with  many  expressions 
of  friendship,  and  with  mutual  admiration  of  each  other's 
prowess,  and  Nicuesa  continued  his  voyage  for  the  coast  of 
Veragua. 

*  Equivalent  to  87,281  dollars  of  the  present  day. 


Uoya<jes  of  Diseov/ery  379 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

OJEDA   FOUNDS   THE   COLONY   OF   SAN  SEBASTIAN — BE- 
LEAGUERED   BY    THE   INDIANS 

OJEDA  now  adopted,  though  tardily,  the  advice  of  his 
unfortunate  lieutenant,  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  and,  giving  up  all 
thoughts  of  colonizing  this  disastrous  part  of  the  coast,  steered 
his  course  for  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  He  sought  for  some  time 
the  river  Darien,  famed  among  the  Indians  as  abounding 
in  gold,  but  not  finding  it,  landed  in  various  places,  seeking 
a  favorable  site  for  his  intended  colony.  His  people  were 
disheartened  by  the  disasters  they  had  already  undergone, 
and  the  appearance  of  surrounding  objects  was  not  calcu- 
lated to  reassure  them.  The  country,  though  fertile  and 
covered  with  rich  and  beautiful  vegetation,  was  in  their  eyes 
a  land  of  cannibals  and  monsters.  They  began  to  dread  the 
strength  as  well  as  fierceness  of  the  savages,  who  could  trans- 
fix a  man  with  their  arrows  even  when  covered  with  armor, 
and  whose  shafts  were  tipped  with  deadly  poison.  They 
heard  the  howlings  of  tigers,  panthers,  and,  as  they  thought, 
lions  in  the  forests,  and  encountered  large  and  venomous  ser- 
pents among  the  rocks  and  thickets.  As  they  were  passing 
along  the  banks  of  a  river,  one  of  their  horses  was  seized  by 
the  leg  by  an  enormous  alligator,  and  dragged  beneath  the 
waves.* 

At  length  Ojeda  fixed  upon  a  place  for  his  town  on  a 
height  at  the  east  side  of  the  gulf.  Here,  landing  all  that 
could  be  spared  from  the  ships,  he  began  with  all  diligence 
to  erect  houses,  giving  this  embryo  capital  of  his  province 
the  name  of  San  Sebastian,  in  honor  of  that  sainted  martyr, 
who  was  slain  by  arrows ;  hoping  he  might  protect  the  in- 

*  Herrera.  Hist.  Ind.  D.  i-  1.  vii.  c.  16. 


380  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi)  Irv!r)$ 

habitants  from  the  empoisoned  shafts  of  the  savages.  As  a 
further  protection  he  erected  a  large  wooden  fortress,  and 
surrounded  the  place  with  a  stockade.  Feeling,  however, 
the  inadequacy  of  his  handful  of  men  to  contend  with  the 
hostile  tribes  around  him,  he  dispatched  a  ship  to  Hispaniola, 
with  a  letter  to  the  Bachelor,  Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso, 
his  alcalde  mayor,  informing  him  of  his  having  established 
his  seat  of  government,  and  urging  him  to  lose  no  time  hi 
joining  him  with  all  the  recruits,  arms,  and  provisions  he 
could  command.  By  the  same  ship  he  transmitted  to  San 
Domingo  all  the  captives  and  gold  he  had  collected. 

His  capital  being  placed  in  a  posture  of  defense,  Ojeda 
now  thought  of  making  a  progress  through  his  wild  terri- 
tory, and  set  out,  accordingly,  with  an  armed  band,  to  pay 
a  friendly  visit  to  a  neighboring  cacique,  reputed  as  possess- 
ing great  treasures  of  gold.  The  natives,  however,  had  by 
this  time  learned  the  nature  of  these  friendly  visits,  and  were 
prepared  to  resist  them.  Scarcely  had  the  Spaniards  entered 
into  the  defiles  of  the  surrounding  forest  when  they  were  as- 
sailed by  flights  of  arrows  from  the  close  coverts  of  the  thick- 
ets. Some  were  shot  dead  on  the  spot ;  others,  less  fortunate, 
expired  raving  with  the  torments  of  the  poison ;  the  survivors, 
filled  with  horror  at  the  sight,  and  losing  all  presence  of 
mind,  retreated  in  confusion  to  the  fortress. 

It  was  some  time  before  Ojeda  could  again  persuade  his 
men  to  take  the  field,  so  great  was  their  dread  of  the  poisoned 
weapons  of  the  Indians.  At  length  their  provisions  began 
to  fail,  and  they  were  compelled  to  forage  among  the  villages 
in  search,  not  of  gold,  but  of  food. 

In  one  of  their  expeditions  they  were  surprised  by  an  am- 
buscade of  savages  in  a  gorge  of  the  mountains,  and  attacked 
with  such  fury  and  effect  that  they  were  completely  routed 
and  pursued  with  yells  and  howlings  to  the  very  gates  of  San 
Sebastian.  Many  died  in  excruciating  agony  of  their  wounds, 
and  others  recovered  with  extreme  difficulty.  Those  who 
were  well  no  longer  dared  to  venture  forth  in  search  of  food; 
for  the  whole  forest  teemed  with  lurking  foes.  They  de- 


Uoya^ej  of  Disoouery  381 

voured  such  herbs  and  roots  as  they  could  find  without  re- 
gard to  their  quality.  The  humors  of  their  bodies  became 
corrupted,  and  various  diseases,  combined  with  the  ravages 
of  famine,  daily  thinned  their  numbers.  The  sentinel  who 
feebly  mounted  guard  at  night  was  often  found  dead  at  his 
post  in  the  morning.  Some  stretched  themselves  on  the 
ground  and  expired  of  mere  famine  and  debility;  nor  was 
death  any  longer  regarded  as  an  evil,  but  rather  as  a  wel- 
come relief  from  a  life  of  horror  and  despair. 


CHAPTER   SIX 

ALONZO    DE    OJEDA    SUPPOSED    BY    THE    SAVAGES   TO    HAVE 

A  CHARMED   LIFE— THEIR  EXPERIMENT  TO  TRY 

THE    FACT 

IN  the  meantime  the  Indians  continued  to  harass  the  gar- 
rison, lying  in  wait  to  surprise  the  foraging  parties,  cutting 
off  all  stragglers,  and  sometimes  approaching  the  walls  in 
open  defiance.  On  such  occasions  Ojeda  sallied  forth  at  the 
head  of  his  men,  and,  from  his  great  agility,  was  the  first  to 
overtake  the  retreating  foe.  He  slew  more  of  their  warriors 
with  his  single  arm  than  all  his  followers  together.  Though 
often  exposed  to  showers  of  arrows,  none  had  ever  wounded 
him,  and  the  Indians  began  to  think  he  had  a  charmed  life. 
Perhaps  they  had  heard  from  fugitive  prisoners  the  idea  en- 
tertained by  himself  and  his  followers  of  his  being  under 
supernatural  protection.  Determined  to  ascertain  the  fact, 
they  placed  four  of  their  most  dexterous  archers  in  ambush 
with  orders  to  single  him  out.  A  number  of  them  advanced 
toward  the  fort  sounding  their  conchs  and  drums  and  utter- 
ing yells  of  defiance.  As  they  expected,  the  impetuous  Ojeda 
sallied  forth  immediately  at  the  head  of  his  men.  The  In- 
dians fled  toward  the  ambuscade,  drawing  him  in  furious 
pursuit.  The  archers  waited  until  he  was  full  in  front,  and 
then  lanched  their  deadly  shafts.  Three  struck  his  buckler 


882  U/or^s  of 

and  glanced  harmlessly  off,  but  the  fourth  pierced  his  thigh. 
Satisfied  that  he  was  wounded  beyond  the  possibility  of  cure, 
the  savages  retreated  with  shouts  of  triumph. 

Ojeda  was  borne  back  to  the  fortress  in  great  anguish  of 
body  and  despondency  of  spirit.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  had  lost  blood  in  battle.  The  charm  in  which  he  had 
hitherto  confided  was  broken;  or,  rather,  the  Holy  Virgin 
appeared  to  have  withdrawn  her  protection.  He  had  the 
horrible  death  of  his  followers  before  his  eyes,  who  had  per- 
ished of  their  wounds  in  raving  frenzy. 

One  of  the  symptoms  of  the  poison  was  to  shoot  a  thrill- 
ing chill  through  the  wounded  part;  from  this  circumstance, 
perhaps,  a  remedy  suggested  itself  to  the  imagination  of 
Ojeda,  which  few  but  himself  could  have  had  the  courage 
to  undergo.  He  caused  two  plates  of  iron  to  be  made  red 
hot,  and  ordered  a  surgeon  to  apply  them  to  each  orifice  of 
the  wound.  The  surgeon  shuddered  and  refused,  saying  he 
would  not  be  the  murderer  of  his  general.*  Upon  this  Ojeda 
made  a  solemn  vow  that  he  would  hang  him  unless  he  obeyed. 
To  avoid  the  gallows,  the  surgeon  applied  the  glowing  plates. 
Ojeda  refused  to  be  tied  down,  or  that  any  one  should  hold 
bun  during  this  frightful  operation.  He  endured  it  without 
shrinking  or  uttering  a  murmur,  although  it  so  inflamed  his 
whole  system  that  they  had  to  wrap  him  in  sheets  steeped  in 
vinegar  to  allay  the  burning  heat  which  raged  throughout 
his  body;  and  we  are  assured  that  a  barrel  of  vinegar  was 
exhausted  for  the  purpose.  The  desperate  remedy  succeeded : 
the  cold  poison,  says  Bishop  Las  Casas,  was  consumed  by  the 
vivid  fire,  f  How  far  the  venerable  historian  is  correct  hi  his 
postulate  surgeons  may  decide;  but  many  incredulous  per- 
sons will  be  apt  to  account  for  the  cure  by  surmising  that 
the  arrow  was  not  envenomed. 


*  Charlevoix,  ut  sup.,  p.  298. 

f  Las  Casas,  Hist.  lad.  lib.  ii.  c.  59,  MS. 


383 


CHAPTER    SEVEN 

ARRIVAL  OF  A   STRANGE    SHIP   AT   SAN   SEBASTIAN 

ALONZO  DE  OJEDA,  though,  pronounced  out  of  danger, 
was  still  disabled  by  his  wound,  and  his  helpless  situation 
completed  the  despair  of  his  companions;  for,  while  he  was 
in  health  and  vigor,  his  buoyant  and  mercurial  spirit,  his  ac- 
tive, restless,  and  enterprising  habits,  imparted  animation,  if 
not  confidence,  to  every  one  around  him.  The  only  hope  of 
relief  was  from  the  sea,  and  that  was  nearly  extinct,  when, 
one  day,  to  the  unspeakable  joy  of  the  Spaniards,  a  sail  ap- 
peared on  the  horizon.  It  made  for  the  port  and  dropped 
anchor  at  the  foot  of  the  height  of  San  Sebastian,  and  there 
was  no  longer  a  doubt  that  it  was  the  promised  succor  from 
San  Domingo. 

The  ship  came  indeed  from  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  but 
it  had  not  been  fitted  out  by  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  The  com- 
mander's name  was  Bernardino  de  Talavera.  This  man  was 
one  of  the  loose,  heedless  adventurers  who  abounded  in  San 
Domingo.  His  carelessness  and  extravagance  had  involved 
him  in  debt,  and  he  was  threatened  with  a  prison.  In  the 
height  of  his  difficulties  the  ship  arrived  which  Ojeda  had 
sent  to  San  Domingo,  freighted  with  slaves  and  gold,  an  ear- 
nest of  the  riches  to  be  found  at  San  Sebastian.  Bernardino 
de  Talavera  immediately  conceived  the  project  of  giving  his 
creditors  the  slip  and  escaping  to  this  new  settlement.  He 
understood  that  Ojeda  was  in  need  of  recruits,  and  felt  as- 
sured that,  from  his  own  reckless  conduct  hi  money-matters, 
he  would  sympathize  with  any  one  harassed  by  debt.  He 
drew  into  his  schemes  a  number  of  desperate  debtors  like 
himself,  nor  was  he  scrupulous  about  filling  his  ranks  with 
recruits  whose  legal  embarrassments  arose  from  more  crim- 
inal causes.  Never  did  a  more  vagabond  crew  engage  in  a 
project  of  colonization. 


384  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?io$toi> 

How  to  provide  themselves  with  a  vessel  was  now  the 
question.  They  had  neither  money  nor  credit ;  but  then  they 
had  cunning  and  courage,  and  were  troubled  by  no  scruples 
of  conscience ;  thus  qualified,  a  knave  will  often  succeed  bet- 
ter for  a  tune  than  an  honest  man ;  it  is  in  the  long  run  that 
he  fails,  as  will  be  illustrated  in  the  case  of  Talavera  and  his 
hopeful  associates.  "While  casting  about  for  means  to  escape 
to  San  Sebastian,  they  heard  of  a  vessel  belonging  to  certain 
Genoese,  which  was  at  Cape  Tiburon,  at  the  western  ex- 
tremity of  the  island,  taking  in  a  cargo  of  bacon  and  cassava 
bread  for  San  Domingo.  Nothing  could  have  happened  more 
opportunely :  here  was  a  ship  amply  stored  with  provisions 
and  ready  to  their  hand ;  they  had  nothing  to  do  but  seize  it 
and  embark. 

The  gang,  accordingly,  seventy  in  number,  made  their 
way  separately  and  secretly  to  Cape  Tiburon,  where,  as- 
sembling at  an  appointed  time  and  place,  they  boarded  the 
vessel,  overpowered  the  crew,  weighed  anchor,  and  set  sail. 
They  were  heedless,  haphazard  mariners,  and  knew  little  of 
the  management  of  a  vessel ;  the  historian  Charlevoix  thinks, 
therefore,  that  it  was  a  special  providence  that  guided  them 
to  San  Sebastian.  Whether  or  not  the  good  father  is  right 
in  his  opinion,  it  is  certain  that  the  arrival  of  the  ship  rescued 
the  garrison  from  the  very  brink  of  destruction.* 

Talavera  and  his  gang,  though  they  had  come  lightly  by 
their  prize,  were  not  disposed  to  part  with  it  as  frankly,  but 
demanded  to  be  paid  down  in  gold  for  the  provisions  furnished 
to  the  starving  colonists.  Ojeda  agreed  to  their  terms,  and, 
taking  the  supplies  into  his  possession,  dealt  them  out  spar- 
ingly to  his  companions.  Several  of  his  hungry  followers 
were  dissatisfied  with  their  portions,  and  even  accused  Ojeda 
of  unfairness  in  reserving  an  undue  share  for  himself.  Per- 
haps there  may  have  been  some  ground  for  this  charge,  aris- 
ing, not  from  any  selfishness  in  the  character  of  Ojeda,  but 
from  one  of  those  superstitious  fancies  with  which  his  mind 

*  Hist.  8.  Domingo,  lib.  iv. 


Spapiel?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  385 

was  tinged ;  for  we  are  told  that,  for  many  years,  he  had 
been  haunted  by  a  presentiment  that  he  should  eventually 
die  of  hunger.* 

This  lurking  horror  of  the  mind  may  have  made  him  de- 
part from  his  usual  free  and  lavish  spirit  in  doling  out  these 
providential  supplies,  and  may  have  induced  him  to  set  by 
an  extra  portion  for  himself,  as  a  precaution  against  his  an- 
ticipated fate ;  certain  it  is  that  great  clamors  rose  among  his 
people,  some  of  whom  threatened  to  return  in  the  pirate  ves- 
sel to  Hispaniola.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  pacifying  them 
for  the  present,  by  representing  the  necessity  of  husbanding 
their  supplies,  and  by  assuring  them  that  the  Bachelor  En- 
ciso  could  not  fail  soon  to  arrive,  when  there  would  be  pro- 
visions in  abundance. 


CHAPTER    EIGHT 

FACTIONS   IN    THE   COLONY— A   CONVENTION    MADE 

DAYS  and  days  elapsed,  but  no  relief  arrived  at  San  Se- 
bastian. The  Spaniards  kept  a  ceaseless  watch  upon  the 
sea,  but  the  promised  ship  failed  to  appear.  With  all  the 
husbandry  of  Ojeda  the  stock  of  provisions  was  nearly  con- 
sumed ;  famine  again  prevailed,  and  several  of  the  garrison 
perished  through  their  various  sufferings  and  their  lack  of 
sufficient  nourishment.  The  survivors  now  became  factious 
in  their  misery,  and  a  plot  was  formed  among  them  to  seize 
upon  one  of  the  vessels  hi  the  harbor  and  make  sail  for 
Hispaniola. 

Ojeda  discovered  their  intentions,,  and  was  reduced  to 
great  perplexity.  He  saw  that  to  remain  here  without  relief 
from  abroad  was  certain  destruction,  yet  he  clung  to  his  des- 
perate enterprise.  It  was  his  only  chance  for  fortune  or  com- 
mand; for  should  this  settlement  be  broken  up  he  might  try 
in  vain,  with  his  exhausted  means  and  broken  credit,  to  ob- 

*  Herrera,  Decad..  i.  1.  viii.  c.  8L 

***Q  VOL.  V. 


386  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$tor?  Iruii>$ 

tain  another  post  or  to  set  on  foot  another  expedition.  Ruin 
in  fact  would  overwhelm  him  should  he  return  without 
success. 

He  exerted  himself,  therefore,  to  the  utmost  to  pacify  his 
men ;  representing  the  folly  of  abandoning  a  place  where  they 
had  established  a  foothold,  and  where  they  only  needed  a  re- 
enforcement  to  enable  them  to  control  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, and  to  make  themselves  masters  of  its  riches.  Finding 
they  still  demurred,  he  offered,  now  that  he  was  sufficiently 
recovered  from  his  wound,  to  go  himself  to  San  Domingo  in 
quest  of  re-enforcements  and  supplies. 

This  offer  had  the  desired  effect.  Such  confidence  had 
the  people  in  the  energy,  ability,  and  influence  of  Ojeda,  that 
they  felt  assured  of  relief  should  he  seek  it  in  person.  They 
made  a  kind  of  convention  with  him,  therefore,  in  which  it 
was  agreed  that  they  should  remain  quietly  at  San  Sebastian 
for  the  space  of  fifty  days.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  in  case 
no  tidings  had  been  received  of  Ojeda,  they  were  to  be  at  lib- 
erty to  abandon  the  settlement  and  return  in  the  brigantines 
to  Hispaniola.  In  the  meantime  Francisco  Pizarro  was  to 
command  the  colony  as  lieutenant  of  Ojeda,  until  the  arrival 
of  his  alcalde  mayor,  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  This  conven* 
tion  being  made,  Ojeda  embarked  in  the  ship  of  Bernardino 
de  Talavera.  That  cut-purse  of  the  ocean  and  his  loose-handed 
crew  were  effectually  cured  of  their  ambition  to  colonize.  Dis- 
appointed in  the  hope  of  finding  abundant  wealth  at  San  Se- 
bastian, and  dismayed  at  the  perils  and  horrors  of  the  sur- 
rounding wilderness,  they  preferred  returning  to  Hispaniola, 
even  at  the  risk  of  chains  and  dungeons.  Doubtless  they 
thought  that  the  influence  of  Ojeda  would  be  sufficient  to 
obtain  their  pardon,  especially  as  their  timely  succor  had 
been  the  salvation  of  the  colony. 


Spaijisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  387 

m 

CHAPTER   NINE 

DISASTROUS  VOYAGE  OF  OJEDA  IN  THE  PIRATE  SHIP 

OJEDA  had  scarce  put  to  sea  in  the  ship  of  these  freeboot- 
ers when  a  fierce  quarrel  arose  between  hi™  and  Talavera. 
Accustomed  to  take  the  lead  among  his  companions,  still 
feeling  himself  governor,  and  naturally  of  a  domineering 
spirit,  Ojeda,  on  coming  on  board,  had  assumed  the  com- 
mand as  a  matter  of  course.  Talavera,  who  claimed  domin- 
ion over  the  ship,  by  the  right  no  doubt  of  trover  and  conver- 
sion, or,  in  other  words,  of  downright  piracy,  resisted  this 
usurpation. 

Ojeda,  as  usual,  would  speedily  have  settled  the  question 
by  the  sword,  but  he  had  the  whole  vagabond  crew  against 
him,  who  overpowered  him  with  numbers  and  threw  him  in 
irons.  Still  his  swelling  spirit  was  unsubdued.  He  reviled 
Talavera  and  his  gang  as  recreants,  traitors,  pirates,  and 
offered  to  fight  the  whole  of  them  successively,  provided  they 
would  give  him  a  clear  deck  and  come  on  two  at  a  tune.  Not- 
withstanding his  diminutive  size,  they  had  too  high  an  idea 
of  his  prowess,  and  had  heard  too  much  of  his  exploits,  to 
accept  his  challenge ;  so  they  kept  him  raging  in  his  chains 
while  they  pursued  their  voyage. 

They  had  not  proceeded  for,  however,  when  a  violent 
storm  arose.  Talavera  and  his  crew  knew  little  of  naviga- 
tion, and  were  totally  ignorant  of  those  seas.  The  raging  of 
the  elements,  the  baffling  winds  and  currents,  and  the  dan- 
ger of  unknown  rocks  and  shoals,  filled  them  with  confusion 
and  alarm.  They  knew  not  whither  they  were  driving  be- 
fore the  storm,  or  where  to  seek  for  shelter.  In  this  hour  of 
peril  they  called  to  mind  that  Ojeda  was  a  sailor  as  well  as 
soldier,  and  that  he  had  repeatedly  navigated  these  seas. 
Making  a  truce,  therefore,  for  the  common  safety,  they  took 


588  U/orxs  of  U/asbir^toi?  Irulr>9 

off  his  irons,  on  condition  that  he  would  pilot  the  vessel  dur- 
ing the  remainder  of  her  voyage. 

Ojeda  acquitted  himself  with  his  accustomed  spirit  and 
intrepidity ;  but  the  vessel  had  been  already  swept  so  far  to 
the  westward  that  all  his  skill  was  ineffectual  in  endeavoring 
to  work  up  to  Hispaniola  against  storms  and  adverse  cur- 
rents. Borne  away  by  the  Gulf  Stream,  and  tempest-tossed 
for  many  days,  until  the  shattered  vessel  was  almost  hi  a 
foundering  condition,  he  saw  no  alternative  but  to  run  it  on 
shore  on  the  southern  coast  of  Cuba. 

Here  then  the  crew  of  freebooters  landed  from  their  prize 
in  more  desperate  plight  than  when  they  first  took  possession 
of  it.  They  were  on  a  wild  and  unfrequented  coast,  their 
vessel  lay  a  wreck  upon  the  sands,  and  their  only  chance 
was  to  travel  on  foot  to  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  island, 
and  seek  some  means  of  crossing  to  Hispaniola,  where,  after 
their  toils,  they  might  perhaps  only  arrive  to  be  thrown  into 
a  dungeon.  Such,  however,  is  the  yearning  of  civilized  men 
after  the  haunts  of  cultivated  society  that  they  set  out,  at 
every  risk,  upon  their  long  and  painful  journey. 


CHAPTER  TEN 

TOILSOME  MARCH   OF  OJEDA  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS 
THROUGH    THE    MORASSES   OF  CUBA 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  recent  services  of  Ojeda,  the  crew 
of  Talavera  still  regarded  him  with  hostility;  but,  if  they 
had  felt  the  value  of  his  skill  and  courage  at  sea,  they  were 
no  less  sensible  of  their  importance  on  shore,  and  he  soon 
acquired  that  ascendency  over  them  which  belongs  to  a  mas- 
ter spirit  in  time  of  trouble. 

Cuba  was  as  yet  uncolonized.  It  was  a  place  of  refuge 
to  the  unhappy  natives  of  Hayti,  who  fled  hither  from  the 
whips  and  chains  of  their  European  task-masters.  The  for- 
ests abounded  with  these  wretched  fugitives,  who  often  op- 


l/oya^es  of  Disoouery  389 

poeed  themselves  to  the  shipwrecked  party,  supposing  them 
to  be  sent  by  their  late  masters  to  drag  them  back  to  captivity. 

Ojeda  easily  repulsed  these  attacks;  but  found  that  theso 
fugitives  had  likewise  inspired  the  villagers  with  hostility  to 
all  European  strangers.  Seeing  that  his  companions  were 
too  feeble  and  disheartened  to  fight  their  way  through  the 
populous  parts  of  the  island,  or  to  climb  the  rugged  moun- 
tains of  the  interior,  he  avoided  all  towns  and  villages,  and 
led  them  through  the  close  forests  and  broad  green  savannas 
which  extended  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea. 

He  had  only  made  choice  of  evils.  The  forests  gradually 
retired  from  the  coast.  The  savannas,  where  the  Spaniards 
at  first  had  to  contend  merely  with  long  rank  grass  and  creep- 
ing vines,  soon  ended  in  salt  marshes,  where  the  oozy  bottom 
yielded  no  firm  foothold  and  the  mud  and  water  reached  to 
their  knees.  Still  they  pressed  forward,  continually  hoping 
in  a  little  while  to  arrive  at  a  firmer  soil,  and  flattering  them- 
selves they  beheld  fresh  meadowland  before  them,  but  con- 
tinually deceived.  The  further  they  proceeded  the  deeper 
grew  the  mire,  until,  after  they  had  been  eight  days  on  thia 
dismal  journey,  they  found  themselves  in  the  center  of  a  vast 
morass  where  the  water  reached  to  their  girdles.  Though 
thus  almost  drowned,  they  were  tormented  with  incessant 
thirst,  for  all  the  water  around  them  was  as  briny  as  the 
ocean.  They  suffered  too  the  cravings  of  extreme  hunger, 
having  but  a  scanty  supply  of  cassava  bread  and  cheese,  and 
a  few  potatoes  and  other  roots,  which  they  devoured  raw. 
When  they  wished  to  sleep  they  had  to  climb  among  the 
twisted  roots  of  mangrove  trees,  which  grew  in  clusters  in 
the  waters.  Still  the  dreary  marsh  widened  and  deepened. 
In  many  places  they  had  to  cross  rivers  and  inlets;  where 
some,  who  could  not  swim,  were  drowned,  and  others  were 
smothered  in  the  mire. 

Their  situation  became  wild  and  desperate.  Their  cas- 
sava bread  was  spoiled  by  the  water  and  their  stock  of  roots 
nearly  exhausted.  The  interminable  morass  still  extended 
before  them,  while,  to  return,  after  the  distance  they  had 


890  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ir)$toi) 

come,  was  hopeless.  Ojeda  alone  kept  up  a  resolute  spirit, 
and  cheered  and  urged  them  forward.  He  had  the  little 
Flemish  painting  of  the  Madonna,  which  had  been  given 
him  by  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  carefully  stored  among  the  pro- 
visions in  his  knapsack.  Whenever  he  stopped  to  repose 
among  the  roots  of  the  mangrove  trees  he  took  out  this  pict- 
ure, placed  it  among  the  branches,  and  kneeling,  prayed  de- 
voutly to  the  Virgin  for  protection.  This  he  did  repeatedly 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  prevailed  upon  his  companions 
to  follow  his  example.  Nay,  more,  at  a  moment  of  great 
despondency,  he  made  a  solemn  vow  to  his  patroness  that,  if 
she  conducted  him  alive  through  this  peril,  he  would  erect  a 
chapel  in  the  first  Indian  village  he  should  arrive  at ;  and 
leave  her  picture  there  to  remain  an  object  of  adoration  to 
the  Gentiles.* 

This  frightful  morass  extended  for  the  distance  of  thirty 
leagues,  and  was  so  deep  and  difficult,  so  entangled  by  roots 
and  creeping  vines,  so  cut  up  by  creeks  and  rivers,  and  so 
beset  by  quagmires,  that  they  were  thirty  days  in  traversing 
it.  Out  of  the  number  of  seventy  men  that  set  out  from  the 
ship  but  thirty-five  remained.  "Certain  it  is,"  observes  the 
venerable  Las  Casas,  "the  sufferings  of  the  Spaniards  in 
the  New  World,  in  search  of  wealth,  have  been  more  cruel 
and  severe  than  ever  nation  in  the  world  endured ;  but  those 
experienced  by  Ojeda  and  his  men  have  surpassed  all  others." 

They  were  at  length  so  overcome  by  hunger  and  fatigue 
that  some  lay  down  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,  and  others, 
seating  themselves  among  the  mangrove  trees,  waited  in  de- 
spair for  death  to  put  an  end  to  their  miseries.  Ojeda,  with 
a  few  of  the  lightest  and  most  vigorous,  continued  to  strug- 
gle forward,  and,  to  their  unutterable  joy,  at  length  arrived 
to  where  the  land  was  firm  and  dry.  They  soon  descried  a 
footpath,  and,  following  it,  arrived  at  an  Indian  village,  com- 
manded by  a  cacique  called  Cueybas.  No  sooner  did  they 
reach  the  village  than  they  sank  to  the  earth  exhausted. 

*  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  1.  iL  c.  60,  MS. 


Spapisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  391 

The  Indians  gathered  round  and  gazed  at  them  with  won- 
der; but  when  they  learned  their  story,  they  exhibited  a  hu- 
manity that  would  have  done  honor  to  the  most  professing 
Christians.  They  bore  them  to  their  dwellings,  set  meat  and 
drink  before  them,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  discharging 
the  offices  of  the  kindest  humanity.  Finding  that  a  number 
of  their  companions  were  still  in  the  morass,  the  cacique  sent 
a  large  party  of  Indians  with  provisions  for  their  relief,  with 
orders  to  bring  on  their  shoulders  such  as  were  too  feeble  to 
walk.  "The Indians,"  says  the  Bishop  Las Casas,  "did more 
than  they  were  ordered ;  for  so  they  always  do,  when  they 
are  not  exasperated  by  ill  treatment.  The  Spaniards  were 
brought  to  the  village,  succored,  cherished,  consoled, 
almost  worshiped  as  if  they  had  been  angels." 


CHAPTER    ELEVEN 

OJEDA   PERFORMS   HIS   VOW   TO   THE   VIRGIN 

BEING  recovered  from  his  sufferings,  Alonzo  de  Ojeda 
prepared  to  perform  his  vow  concerning  the  picture  of  the 
Virgin,  though  sorely  must  it  have  grieved  him  to  part  with 
a  relic  to  which  he  attributed  his  deliverance  from  so  many 
perils.  He  built  a  little  hermitage  or  oratory  in  the  village, 
and  furnished  it  with  an  altar,  above  which  he  placed  the 
picture.  He  then  summoned  the  benevolent  cacique,  and 
explained  to  him  as  well  as  his  limited  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guage or  the  aid  of  interpreters  would  permit,  the  main 
points  of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  especially  the  history  of  the 
Virgin,  whom  he  represented  as  the  mother  of  the  Deity  that 
reigned  in  the  skies,  and  the  great  advocate  for  mortal  man. 

The  worthy  cacique  listened  to  him  with  mute  attention, 
and  though  he  might  not  clearly  comprehend  the  doctrine, 
yet  he  conceived  a  profound  veneration  for  the  picture.  The 
sentiment  was  shared  by  his  subjects.  They  kept  the  little 


992  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ii>$toi) 

oratory  always  swept  clean,  and  decorated  it  with  cotton 
hangings,  labored  by  their  own  hands,  and  with  various 
votive  offerings.  They  composed  couplets  or  areytos  in 
honor  of  the  Virgin,  which  they  sang  to  the  accompaniment 
of  rude  musical  instruments,  dancing  to  the  sound  under  the 
groves  which  surrounded  the  hermitage. 

A  further  anecdote  concerning  this  relic  may  not  be  un- 
acceptable. The  venerable  Las  Casas,  who  records  these 
facts,  informs  us  that  he  arrived  at  the  village  of  Cuebas 
some  time  after  the  departure  of  Ojeda.  He  found  the  ora- 
tory preserved  with  the  most  religious  care,  as  a  sacred  place, 
and  the  picture  of  the  Virgin  regarded  with  fond  adoration. 
The  poor  Indians  crowded  to  attend  mass,  which  he  per- 
formed at  the  altar;  they  listened  attentively  to  his  paternal 
instructions,  and  at  his  request  brought  their  children  to  be 
baptized.  The  good  Las  Casas,  having  heard  much  of  this 
famous  relic  of  Ojeda,  was  desirous  of  obtaining  possession 
of  it,  and  offered  to  give  the  cacique  in  exchange  an  image 
of  the  Virgin  which  he  had  brought  with  him.  The  chieftain 
made  an  evasive  answer,  and  seemed  much  troubled  in  mind. 
The  next  morning  he  did  not  make  his  appearance. 

Las  Casas  went  to  the  oratory  to  perform  mass,  but  found 
the  altar  stripped  of  its  precious  relic.  On  inquiring,  he 
learned  that  in  the  night  the  cacique  had  fled  to  the  woods, 
bearing  off  with  him  his  beloved  picture  of  the  Virgin.  It 
was  in  vain  that  Las  Casas  sent  messengers  after  him,  assur- 
ing him  that  he  should  not  be  deprived  of  the  relic,  but  on 
the  contrary,  that  the  image  should  likewise  be  presented  to 
him.  The  cacique  refused  to  venture  from  the  fastnesses  of 
the  forest,  nor  did  he  return  to  his  village  and  replace  the 
picture  in  the  oratory  until  after  the  departure  of  the  Span- 
iards.* 

*  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  c.  61,  MS.     Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  i.  1.  ix.  c.  15. 


Spapist?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  393 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 

ARRIVAL  OF   OJEDA  AT   JAMAICA — HIS  RECEPTION   BY   JUAN 

DE    ESQUIBEL 

WHEN  the  Spaniards  were  completely  restored  to  health 
and  strength  they  resumed  their  journey.  The  cacique  sent 
a  large  body  of  his  subjects  to  carry  their  provisions  and 
knapsacks,  and  to  guide  them  across  a  desert  tract  of  coun- 
try to  the  province  of  Macaca,  where  Christopher  Columbus 
had  been  hospitably  entertained  on  his  voyage  along  this 
coast.  They  experienced  equal  kindness  from  its  cacique 
and  his  people,  for  such  seems  to  have  been  almost  invari- 
ably the  case  with  the  natives  of  these  islands,  before  they 
had  held  much  intercourse  with  the  Europeans. 

The  province  of  Macaca  was  situated  at  Cape  de  la  Cruz, 
the  nearest  point  to  the  island  of  Jamaica.  Here  Ojeda 
learned  that  there  were  Spaniards  settled  on  that  island,  be- 
ing in  fact  the  party  commanded  by  the  very  Juan  de  Es- 
quibel  whose  head  he  had  threatened  to  strike  off,  when  de- 
parting in  swelling  style  from  San  Domingo.  It  seemed  to 
be  the  fortune  of  Ojeda  to  have  his  bravadoes  visited  on  his 
head  in  times  of  trouble  and  humiliation.  He  found  himself 
compelled  to  apply  for  succor  to  the  very  man  he  had  so  vain- 
gloriously  menaced.  This  was  no  time,  however,  to  stand  on 
points  of  pride;  he  procured  a  canoe  and  Indians  from  the 
cacique  of  Macaca,  and  one  Pedro  de  Ordas  undertook  the 
perilous  voyage  of  twenty  leagues  in  the  frail  bark,  and 
arrived  safe  at  Jamaica. 

No  sooner  did  Esquibel  receive  the  message  of  Ojeda 
than,  forgetting  past  menaces,  he  instantly  dispatched  a 
caravel  to  bring  to  him  the  unfortunate  discoverer  and  his 
companions.  He  received  him  with  the  utmost  kindness, 
lodged  him  in  his  own  house,  and  treated  him  in  all  things 


894  U/or^s  of  U/aslpi^toi?  Irvfi>$ 

with  the  most  delicate  attention.  He  was  a  gentleman  who 
had  seen  prosperous  days,  but  had  fallen  into  adversity  and 
been  buffeted  about  the  world,  and  had  learned  how  to  re- 
spect the  feelings  of  a  proud  spirit  in  distress.  Ojeda  had 
the  warm,  touchy  heart  to  feel  such  conduct;  he  remained 
several  days  with  Esquibel  in  frank  communion,  and  when 
he  sailed  for  San  Domingo  they  parted  the  best  of  friends. 

And  here  we  cannot  but  remark  the  singular  difference 
in  character  and  conduct  of  these  Spanish  adventurers  when 
dealing  with  each  other,  or  with  the  unhappy  natives.  Noth- 
ing could  be  more  chivalrous,  urbane,  and  charitable;  nothing 
more  pregnant  with  noble  sacrifices  of  passion  and  interest, 
with  magnanimous  instances  of  forgiveness  of  injuries  and 
noble  contests  of  generosity,  than  the  transactions  of  the  dis- 
coverers with  each  other;  but  the  moment  they  turned  to 
treat  with  the  Indians,  even  with  brave  and  high-minded 
caciques,  they  were  vindictive,  bloodthirsty,  and  implacable. 
The  very  Juan  de  Esquibel,  who  could  requite  the  recent 
hostility  of  Ojeda  with  such  humanity  and  friendship  was 
the  same  who,  under  the  government  of  Ovando,  laid  deso- 
late the  province  of  Higuey  in  Hispaniola,  and  inflicted  atro- 
cious cruelties  upon  its  inhabitants. 

"When  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  set  sail  for  San  Domingo,  Ber- 
nardino de  Talavera  and  his  rabble  adherents  remained  at 
Jamaica.  They  feared  to  be  brought  to  account  for  their 
piratical  exploit  in  stealing  the  Genoese  vessel,  and  that,  in 
consequence  of  their  recent  violence  to  Ojeda,  they  would 
find  in  him  an  accuser  rather  than  an  advocate.  The  latter, 
however,  hi  the  opinion  of  Las  Casas,  who  knew  him  well, 
was  not  a  man  to  make  accusations.  With  all  his  faults  he 
did  not  harbor  malice.  He  was  quick  and  fiery,  it  is  true, 
and  his  sword  was  too  apt  to  leap  from  its  scabbard  on  the 
least  provocation;  but  after  the  first  flash  all  was  over,  and, 
if  he  cooled  upon  an  injury,  he  never  sought  for  vengeance. 


Spaptel?  Voyages  of  Discovery  395 


CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 

ARRIVAL  OP  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA  AT  SAN  DOMINGO— CON- 
CLUSION OF  HIS  STORY 

ON  arriving  at  San  Domingo  the  first  inquiry  of  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda  was  after  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  He  was  told  that  he 
had  departed  long  before  with  abundant  supplies  for  the 
colony,  and  that  nothing  had  been  heard  of  him  since  his 
departure.  Ojeda  waited  for  a  time,  in  hopes  of  hearing,  by 
some  return  ship,  of  the  safe  arrival  of  the  Bachelor  at  San 
Sebastian.  No  tidings,  however,  arrived,  and  he  began  to 
fear  that  he  had  been  lost  in  those  storms  which  had  beset 
himself  on  his  return  voyage. 

Anxious  for  the  relief  of  his  settlement,  and  fearing  that, 
by  delay,  his  whole  scheme  of  colonization  would  be  defeated, 
he  now  endeavored  to  set  on  foot  another  armament,  and  to 
enlist  a  new  set  of  adventurers.  His  efforts,  however,  were 
all  ineffectual.  The  disasters  of  his  colony  were  known,  and 
his  own  circumstances  were  considered  desperate.  He  was 
doomed  to  experience  the  fate  that  too  often  attends  sanguine 
and  brilliant  projectors.  The  world  is  dazzled  by  them  for  a 
time,  and  hails  them  as  heroes  while  successful;  but  mis- 
fortune dissipates  the  charm,  and  they  become  stigmatized 
with  the  appellation  of  adventurers.  When  Ojeda  figured  in 
San  Domingo  as  the  conqueror  of  Caonabo,  as  the  commander 
of  a  squadron,  as  the  governor  of  a  province,  his  prowess  and 
exploits  were  the  theme  of  every  tongue.  When  he  set  sail, 
in  vaunting  style,  for  Ms  seat  of  government,  setting  the 
viceroy  at  defiance,  and  threatening  the  life  of  Esquibel, 
every  one  thought  that  fortune  was  at  his  beck,  and  he  was 
about  to  accomplish  wonders.  A  few  months  had  elapsed, 
and  he  walked  the  streets  of  San  Domingo  a  needy  man, 
shipwrecked  in  hope  and  fortune.  His  former  friends. 


896  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)$toi? 

dreading  some  new  demand  upon  their  purses,  looked  coldly 
on  him ;  his  schemes,  once  so  extolled,  were  now  pronounced 
wild  and  chimerical,  and  he  was  subjected  to  all  kinds  of 
slights  and  humiliations  in  the  very  place  which  had  been 
the  scene  of  his  greatest  vainglory. 

While  Ojeda  was  thus  lingering  at  San  Domingo,  the 
admiral,  Don  Diego  Columbus,  sent  a  party  of  soldiers  to 
Jamaica  to  arrest  Talavera  and  his  pirate  crew.  They  were 
brought  in  chains  to  San  Domingo,  thrown  into  dungeons, 
and  tried  for  the  robbery  of  the  Genoese  vessel.  Their  crime 
was  too  notorious  to  admit  of  doubt,  and,  being  convicted, 
Talavera  and  several  of  his  principal  accomplices  were 
hanged.  Such  was  the  end  of  their  frightful  journey  by  sea 
and  land.  Never  had  vagabonds  traveled  further  or  toiled 
harder  to  arrive  at  a  gallows ! 

In  the  course  of  the  trial  Ojeda  had  naturally  been  sum- 
moned as  a  witness,  and  his  testimony  must  have  tended 
greatly  to  the  conviction  of  the  culprits.  This  drew  upon 
him  the  vengeance  of  the  surviving  comrades  of  Talavera, 
who  still  lurked  about  San  Domingo.  As  he  was  returning 
home  one  night  at  a  late  hour  he  was  waylaid  and  set  upon 
by  a  number  of  these  miscreants.  He  displayed  his  usual 
spirit.  Setting  his  back  against  a  wall,  and  drawing  his 
sword,  he  defended  himself  admirably  against  the  whole 
gang;  nor  was  he  content  with  beating  them  off,  but  pur- 
sued them  for  some  distance  through  the  streets ;  and  having 
thus  put  them  to  utter  rout,  returned  tranquil  and  unharmed 
to  his  lodgings. 

This  is  the  last  achievement  recorded  of  the  gallant  but 
reckless  Ojeda;  for  here  his  bustling  career  terminated,  and 
he  sank  into  the  obscurity  that  gathers  round  a  ruined  man. 
His  health  was  broken  by  the  various  hardships  he  had 
sustained,  and  by  the  lurking  effects  of  the  wound  received 
at  San  Sebastian,  which  had  been  but  imperfectly  cured. 
Poverty  and  neglect,  and  the  corroding  sickness  of  the  heart, 
contributed,  no  less  than  the  maladies  of  the  body,  to  quench 
that  sanguine  and  fiery  temper,  which  had  hitherto  been  the 


Spaniel?  Voyages  of  Disoouery  397 

secret  of  his  success,  and  to  render  him  the  mere  wreck  of 
his  former  self;  for  there  is  no  ruin  so  hopeless  and  complete 
as  that  of  a  towering  spirit  humiliated  and  broken  down. 
He  appears  to  have  lingered  some  time  at  San  Domingo. 
Gomara,  in  his  history  of  the  Indies,  affirms  that  he  turned 
monk,  and  entered  in  the  convent  at  San  Francisco  where 
he  died.  Such  a  change  would  not  have  been  surprising  in 
a  man  who,  in  his  wildest  career,  mingled  the  bigot  with  the 
soldier;  nor  was  it  unusual  with  military  adventurers  in 
those  days,  after  passing  their  youth  in  the  bustle  and  licen- 
tiousness of  the  camp,  to  end  their  days  in  the  quiet  and 
mortification  of  the  cloister.  Las  Casas,  however,  who  was 
at  San  Domingo  at  the  time,  makes  no  mention  of  the  fact, 
as  he  certainly  would  have  done  had  it  taken  place.  He 
confirms,  however,  all  that  has  been  said  of  the  striking  re- 
verse in  his  character  and  circumstances;  and  he  adds  an 
affecting  picture  of  his  last  moments,  which  may  serve  as  a 
wholesome  comment  on  his  life.  He  died  so  poor  that  he 
did  not  leave  money  enough  to  provide  for  his  interment; 
and  so  broken  in  spirit  that,  with  his  last  breath,  he  en- 
treated his  body  might  be  buried  in  the  monastery  of  San 
Francisco,  just  at  the  portal,  in  humble  expiation  of  his  past 
pride,  "that  every  one  who  entered  might  tread  upon  his 
grave."  * 

Such  was  the  fate  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda — and  who  does  not 
forget  his  errors  and  his  faults  at  the  threshold  of  his  humble 
and  untimely  grave!  He  was  one  of  the  most  fearless  and 
aspiring  of  that  band  of  "Ocean  chivalry"  that  followed  the 
footsteps  of  Columbus.  His  story  presents  a  lively  picture 
of  the  daring  enterprises,  the  extravagant  exploits,  the  thou- 
sand accidents,  by  flood  and  field,  that  checkered  the  life  of 
a  Spanish  cavalier  in  that  roving  and  romantic  age. 

"Never,"  says  Charlevoix,  "was  man  more  suited  fora 
coup-de-main,  or  to  achieve  and  suffer  great  things  under  the 
direction  of  another;  none  had  a  heart  more  lofty,  or  ambi- 

•  Las  Casas,  ubi.  sup. 


398  U/orl{8  of  U/asl?ir)$top 

tion  more  aspiring;  none  ever  took  less  heed  of  fortune,  or 
showed  greater  firmness  of  soul,  or  found  more  resources  in 
his  own  courage;  but  none  was  less  calculated  to  be  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  a  great  enterprise.  Good  management 
and  good  fortune  forever  failed  him."  * 


THE   VOYAGE    OF    DIEGO    DE    NICUESA 


CHAPTER  ONE 

NICUESA  SAILS  TO    THE  WESTWARD — HIS    SHIPWRECK    AND 
SUBSEQUENT  DISASTERS 

WE  have  now  to  recount  the  fortunes  experienced  by  the 
gallant  and  generous  Diego  de  Nicuesa,  after  his  parting 
from  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  at  Carthagena.  On  resuming  his 
voyage  he  embarked  in  a  caravel,  that  he  might  be  able  to 
coast  the  land  and  reconnoiter;  he  ordered  that  the  two 
brigantines,  one  of  which  was  commanded  by  his  lieutenant, 
Lope  de  Olano,  should  keep  near  to  him,  while  the  large 
vessels,  which  drew  more  water,  should  stand  further  out  to 
sea.  The  squadron  arrived  upon  the  coast  of  Veragua  in 
stormy  weather,  and,  as  Nicuesa  could  not  find  any  safe 
harbor,  and  was  apprehensive  of  rocks  and  shoals,  he  stood 
out  to  sea  at  the  approach  of  night,  supposing  that  Lope  de 
Olano  would  follow  him  with  the  brigantines  according  to 
his  orders.  The  night  was  boisterous,  the  caravel  was  much 
tossed  and  driven  about,  and  when  the  morning  dawned  not 
one  of  the  squadron  was  in  sight. 

Nicuesa  feared  some  accident  had  befallen  the  brigan- 
tines ;  he  stood  for  the  land  and  coasted  along  it  in  search  of 
them  until  he  came  to  a  large  river,  into  which  he  entered 

*  Charlevoix,  Hist.  San  Domingo. 


§pai)i»l?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  399 

and  came  to  anchor.  He  had  not  been  here  long  when  the 
stream  suddenly  subsided,  having  merely  been  swollen  by 
the  rains.  Before  he  had  time  to  extricate  himself  the 
caravel  grounded,  and  at  length  fell  over  on  one  side.  The 
current  rushing  like  a  torrent  strained  the  feeble  bark  to 
such  a  degree  that  her  seams  yawned  and  she  appeared  ready 
to  go  to  pieces.  In  this  moment  of  peril  a  hardy  seaman 
threw  himself  into  the  water  to  carry  the  end  of  a  rope  on 
shore  as  a  means  of  saving  the  crew.  He  was  swept  away 
by  the  furious  current  and  perished  in  sight  of  his  com- 
panions. Undismayed  by  his  fate,  another  brave  seaman 
plunged  into  the  waves  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore. 
He  then  fastened  one  end  of  a  rope  firmly  to  a  tree,  and,  the 
other  being  secured  on  board  of  the  caravel,  Nicuesa  and  his 
crew  passed  one  by  one  along  it  and  reached  the  shore  in 
safety. 

Scarcely  had  they  landed  when  the  caravel  went  to  pieces, 
and  with  it  perished  their  provisions,  clothing,  and  all  other 
necessaries.  Nothing  remained  to  them  but  the  boat  of  the 
caravel,  which  was  accidentally  cast  on  shore.  Here  then 
they  were,  in  helpless  plight,  on  a  remote  and  savage  coast, 
without  food,  without  arms,  and  almost  naked.  What  had 
become  of  the  rest  of  the  squadron  they  knew  not.  Some 
feared  that  the  brigantines  had  been  wrecked;  others  called 
to  mind  that  Lope  de  Olano  had  been  one  of  the  loose  lawless 
men  confederated  with  Francisco  Roldan  in  his  rebellion 
against  Columbus,  and,  judging  him  from  the  school  in 
which  he  had  served,  hinted  their  apprehensions  that  he  had 
deserted  with  the  brigantines.  Nicuesa  partook  of  their 
suspicions,  and  was  anxious  and  sad  at  heart.  He  concealed 
his  uneasiness,  however,  and  endeavored  to  cheer  up  his  com- 
panions, proposing  that  they  should  proceed  westward  on 
foot  in  search  of  Veragua,  the  seat  of  his  intended  govern- 
ment, observing  that  if  the  ships  had  survived  the  tempest 
they  would  probably  repair  to  that  place.  They  accordingly 
set  off  along  the  seashore,  for  the  thickness  of  the  forest 
prevented  their  traversing  the  interior.  Four  of  the  hardiest 


400  U/orl^g  of  U/a8l?ii?<$toi} 

sailors  put  to  sea  in  the  boat,  and  kept  abreast  of  them  to  help 
them  across  the  bays  and  rivers. 

Their  sufferings  were  extreme.  Most  of  them  were 
destitute  of  shoes,  and  many  almost  naked.  They  had  to 
clamber  over  sharp  and  rugged  rocks,  and  to  struggle 
through  dense  forests  beset  with  thorns  and  brambles.  Often 
they  had  to  wade  across  rank  fens  and  morasses  and  drowned 
lands,  or  to  traverse  deep  and  rapid  streams. 

Their  food  consisted  of  herbs  and  roots  and  shellfish 
gathered  along  the  shore.  Had  they  even  met  with  Indians 
they  would  have  dreaded,  in  their  unarmed  state,  to  apply  to 
them  for  provisions,  lest  they  should  take  revenge  for  the 
outrages  committed  along  this  coast  by  other  Europeans. 

To  render  their  sufferings  more  intolerable,  they  were  in 
doubt  whether,  in  the  storms  which  preceded  their  ship- 
wreck, they  had  not  been  driven  past  Veragua,  in  which  case 
each  step  would  take  them  so  much  the  further  from  their 
desired  haven. 

Still  they  labored  feebly  forward,  encouraged  by  the 
words  and  the  example  of  Nicuesa,  who  cheerfully  partook 
of  the  toils  and  hardships  of  the  meanest  of  his  men. 

They  had  slept  one  night  at  the  foot  of  impending  rocks, 
and  were  about  to  resume  their  weary  march  in  the  morning, 
when  they  were  espied  by  some  Indians  from  a  neighboring 
height.  Among  the  followers  of  Nicuesa  was  a  favorite 
page,  whose  tattered  finery  and  white  hat  caught  the  quick 
eyes  of  the  savages.  One  of  them  immediately  singled  him 
out,  and,  taking  a  deadly  aim,  let  fly  an  arrow  that  laid  him 
expiring  at  the  feet  of  his  master.  While  the  generous  cava' 
Her  mourned  over  his  slaughtered  page,  consternation  pre- 
vailed among  his  companions,  each  fearing  for  his  own  life. 
The  Indians,  however,  did  not  follow  up  this  casual  act  of 
hostility,  but  suffered  the  Spaniards  to  pursue  their  painful 
journey  unmolested. 

Arriving  one  day  at  the  point  of  a  great  bay  that  ran  far 
inland,  they  were  conveyed,  a  few  at  a  time,  in  the  boat  to 
what  appeared  to  be  the  opposite  poin*.  Being  all  landed, 


5pai)i5l?  Uoya<}e5  of  Discovery  401 

and  resuming  their  march,  they  found  to  their  surprise  that 
they  were  on  an  island,  separated  from  the  mainland  by  a 
great  arm  of  the  sea.  The  sailors  who  managed  the  boat 
were  too  weary  to  take  them  to  the  opposite  shore;  they 
remained  therefore  all  night  upon  the  island. 

In  the  morning  they  prepared  to  depart,  but,  to  their  con- 
sternation, the  boat  with  the  four  mariners  had  disappeared. 
They  ran  anxiously  from  point  to  point,  uttering  shouts  and 
cries,  in  hopes  the  boat  might  be  in  some  inlet;  they  clam- 
bered the  rocks  and  strained  their  eyes  over  the  sea.  It  waft 
all  in  vain.  No  boat  was  to  be  seen ;  no  voice  responded  to 
their  call ;  it  was  too  evident  the  four  mariners  had  either 
perished  or  had  deserted  them. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

NICUESA  AND   HIS   MEN  ON  A   DESOLATE  ISLAND 

THE  situation  of  Nicuesa  and  his  men  was  dreary  and 
desperate  in  the  extreme.  They  were  on  a  desolate  island 
bordering  upon  a  swampy  coast,  in  a  remote  and  lonely  sea, 
where  commerce  never  spread  a  sail.  Then?  companions  in 
the  other  ships,  if  still  alive  and  true  to  them,  had  doubtless 
given  them  up  for  lost ;  and  many  years  might  elapse  before 
the  casual  bark  of  a  discoverer  might  venture  along  these 
shores.  Long  before  that  time  their  fate  would  be  sealed, 
and  their  bones  bleaching  on  the  sands  would  alone  tell  their 
story. 

In  this  hopeless  state  many  abandoned  themselves  to 
frantic  grief,  wandering  about  the  island,  wringing  their 
hands  and  uttering  groans  and  lamentations;  others  called 
upon  God  for  succor,  and  many  sat  down  in  silent  and  sullen 
despair. 

The  cravings  of  hunger  and  thirst  at  length  roused  them 
to  exertion.  They  found  no  food  but  a  few  shellfish  scat- 
tered along  the  shore,  and  coarse  herbs  and  roots,  some  of 


402  U/orKs  of 

them  of  an  unwholesome  quality.  The  island  had  neither 
springs  nor  streams  of  fresh  water,  and  they  were  fain  to 
slake  their  thirst  at  the  brackish  pools  of  the  marshes. 

Nicuesa  endeavored  to  animate  his  men  with  new  hopes. 
He  employed  them  in  constructing  a  raft  of  driftwood  and 
branches  of  trees,  for  the  purpose  of  crossing  the  arm  of  the 
sea  that  separated  them  from  the  mainland.  It  was  a  diffi- 
cult task,  for  they  were  destitute  of  tools,  and  when  the  raft 
was  finished  they  had  no  oars  with  which  to  manage  it. 
Some  of  the  most  expert  swimmers  undertook  to  propel  it, 
but  they  were  too  much  enfeebled  by  their  sufferings.  On 
their  first  essay  the  currents  which  sweep  that  coast  bore  the 
raft  out  to  sea,  and  they  swam  back  with  difficulty  to  the 
island.  Having  no  other  chance  of  escape,  and  no  other 
means  of  exercising  and  keeping  up  the  spirits  of  his  fol- 
lowers, Nicuesa  repeatedly  ordered  new  rafts  to  be  con- 
structed, but  the  result  was  always  the  same,  and  the  men 
at  length  either  grew  too  feeble  to  work  or  renounced  the 
attempt  in  despair. 

Thus,  day  after  day  and  week  after  week  elapsed  without 
any  mitigation  of  suffering  or  any  prospect  of  relief.  Every 
day  some  one  or  other  sank  under  his  miseries,  a  victim  not 
so  much  to  hunger  and  thirst  as  to  grief  and  despondency. 
His  death  was  envied  by  his  wretched  survivors,  many  of 
whom  were  reduced  to  such  debility  that  they  had  to  crawl 
on  hands  and  knees  hi  search  of  the  herbs  and  shellfish 
which  formed  their  scanty  food. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

ARRIVAL  OF  A  BOAT — CONDUCT  OF  LOPE  DB  OLANO 

WHEN  the  unfortunate  Spaniards,  without  hope  of  suc- 
cor, began  to  consider  death  as  a  desirable  end  to  their  mis- 
eries, they  were  roused  to  new  life  one  day  by  beholding  a 
sail  gleaming  on  the  horizon.  Their  exultation  was  checked. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  403 

however,  by  the  reflection  how  many  chances  there  were 
against  its  approaching  this  wild  and  desolate  island.  Watch- 
ing it  with  anxious  eyes  they  put  up  prayers  to  God  to  con* 
duct  it  to  their  relief,  and  at  length,  to  their  great  joy,  they 
perceived  that  it  was  steering  directly  for  the  island.  On  a 
nearer  approach  it  proved  to  be  one  of  the  brigantines  that 
had  been  commanded  by  Lope  de  Olano.  It  came  to  anchor: 
a  boat  put  off,  and  among  the  crew  were  the  four  sailors  who 
had  disappeared  so  mysteriously  from  the  island. 

These  men  accounted  in  a  satisfactory  manner  for  their 
desertion.  They  had  been  persuaded  that  the  ships  were  in 
some  harbor  to  the  eastward,  and  that  they  were  daily  leav« 
ing  them  further  behind.  Disheartened  at  the  constant,  and, 
in  their  opinion,  fruitless  toil  which  fell  to  their  share  in  the 
struggle  westward,  they  resolved  to  take  their  own  counsel, 
without  risking  the  opposition  of  Nicuesa.  In  the  dead  ol 
the  night,  therefore,  when  their  companions  on  the  island 
were  asleep,  they  had  silently  cast  off  their  boat,  and  re- 
traced their  course  along  the  coast.  After  several  days'  toil 
they  found  the  brigantines  under  the  command  of  Lope  de 
Olano,  in  the  river  of  Belen,  the  scene  of  the  disasters  of 
Columbus  in  his  fourth  voyage. 

The  conduct  of  Lope  de  Olano  was  regarded  with  sus« 
picion  by  his  contemporaries,  and  is  still  subject  to  doubt. 
He  is  supposed  to  have  deserted  Nicuesa  designedly,  intend- 
ing to  usurp  the  command  of  the  expedition.  Men,  however, 
were  prone  to  judge  harshly  of  him  from  his  having  been 
concerned  in  the  treason  and  rebellion  of  Francisco  Roldan. 
On  the  stormy  night  when  Nicuesa  stood  out  to  sea  to  avoid 
the  dangers  of  the  shore,  Olano  took  shelter  under  the  lee  of 
an  island.  Seeing  nothing  of  the  caravel  of  his  commander 
in  the  morning,  he  made  no  effort  to  seek  for  it,  but  pro- 
ceeded with  the  brigantines  to  the  river  Chagres,  where  he 
found  the  ships  at  anchor.  They  had  landed  all  their  cargo, 
being  almost  in  a  sinking  condition  from  the  ravages  of  the 
worms.  Olano  persuaded  the  crews  that  Nicuesa  had  per- 
ished in  the  late  storm,  and,  being  his  lieutenant,  he  assumed 


404  U/or^s  of  U/a8t?ir><$tor> 

the  command.  Whether  he  had  been  perfidious  or  not  in  his 
motives,  his  command  was  but  a  succession  of  disasters.  He 
sailed  from  Chagres  for  the  river  of  Belen,  where  the  ships 
were  found  so  damaged  that  they  had  to  be  broken  to  pieces. 
Most  of  the  people  constructed  wretched  cabins  on  the  shore, 
where,  during  a  sudden  storm,  they  were  almost  washed 
away  by  the  swelling  of  the  river,  or  swallowed  up  in  the 
shifting  sands.  Several  of  his  men  were  drowned  in  an  ex- 
pedition in  quest  of  gold,  and  he  himself  merely  escaped  by 
superior  swimming.  Their  provisions  were  exhausted,  they 
suffered  from  hunger  and  from  various  maladies,  and  many 
perished  in  extreme  misery.  All  were  clamorous  to  abandon 
the  coast,  and  Olano  set  about  constructing  a  caravel,  out  of 
the  wreck  of  the  ships,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  said,  of  return- 
ing to  Hispaniola,  though  many  suspected  it  was  still  his 
intention  to  persist  in  the  enterprise.  Such  was  the  state  in 
which  the  four  seamen  had  found  Olano  and  his  party ;  most 
of  them  living  in  miserable  cabins  and  destitute  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life. 

The  tidings  that  Nicuesa  was  still  alive  put  an  end  to  the 
sway  of  Olano.  Whether  he  had  acted  with  truth  or  perfidy, 
he  now  manifested  a  zeal  to  relieve  his  commander,  and 
immediately  dispatched  a  brigantine  in  quest  of  him,  which, 
guided  by  the  four  seamen,  arrived  at  the  island  in  the  way 
that  has  been  mentioned. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

NICUESA   REJOINS   HIS  CREWS 

WHEN  the  crew  of  the  brigantine  and  the  companions  of 
Nicuesa  met,  they  embraced  each  other  with  tears,  for  the 
hearts,  even  of  the  rough  mariners,  were  subdued  by  the 
sorrows  they  had  undergone ;  and  men  are  rendered  kind  to 
each  other  by  a  community  of  euff  ering.  The  brigantine  had 


Spaniel?  l/oya$es  of  Discovery  405 

brought  a  quantity  of  palm  nuts,  and  of  such  other  articles 
of  food  as  they  had  been  able  to  procure  along  the  coast. 
These  the  famished  Spaniards  devoured  with  such  voracity 
that  Nicuesa  was  obliged  to  interfere,  lest  they  should  injure 
themselves.  Nor  was  the  supply  of  fresh  water  less  grateful 
to  their  parched  and  fevered  palates. 

"When  sufficiently  revived,  they  all  abandoned  the  deso- 
late island,  and  set  sail  for  the  river  Belen,  exulting  as  joy- 
fully as  if  their  troubles  were  at  an  end,  and  they  were  bound 
to  a  haven  of  delight  instead  of  merely  changing  the  scene  of 
suffering  and  encountering  a  new  variety  of  horrors. 

In  the  meantime  Lope  de  Olano  had  been  diligently  pre* 
paring  for  the  approaching  interview  with  his  commander, 
by  persuading  his  fellow  officers  to  intercede  in  his  behalf, 
and  to  place  his  late  conduct  in  the  most  favorable  light. 
He  had  need  of  their  intercessions.  Nicuesa  arrived  burning 
with  indignation.  He  ordered  him  to  be  instantly  seized  and 
punished  as  a  traitor ;  attributing  to  his  desertion  the  ruin  of 
the  enterprise  and  the  sufferings  and  death  of  so  many  of  his 
brave  followers.  The  fellow  captains  of  Olano  spoke  in  his 
favor;  but  Nicuesa  turned  indignantly  upon  them :  "You  do 
well,"  cried  he,  "to  supplicate  mercy  for  him;  you,  who, 
yourselves,  have  need  of  pardon !  You  have  participated  in 
his  crime;  why  else  have  you  suffered  so  long  a  time  to 
elapse  without  compelling  him  to  send  one  of  the  vessels  in 
search  of  me?" 

The  captains  now  vindicated  themselves  by  assurances  of 
their  belief  in  his  having  foundered  at  sea.  They  reiterated 
their  supplications  for  mercy  to  Olano;  drawing  the  most 
affecting  pictures  of  their  past  and  present  sufferings,  and 
urging  the  impolicy  of  increasing  the  horrors  of  their  situa- 
tion by  acts  of  severity.  Nicuesa  at  length  was  prevailed 
upon  to  spare  his  victim ;  resolving  to  send  him,  by  the  first 
opportunity,  a  prisoner  to  Spain.  It  appeared,  in  truth,  no 
time  to  add  to  the  daily  blows  of  fate  that  were  thinning  the 
number  of  his  followers.  Of  the  gallant  armament  of  seven 
hundred  resolute  and  effective  men  that  had  sailed  with  him 


406  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii?$toi> 

from  San  Domingo,  four  hundred  had  already  perished  by 
various  miseries;  and  of  the  survivors,  many  could  scarcely 
be  said  to  live. 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

BUFFERINGS    OF    NICUESA   AND   HIS  MEN  ON  THE  COAST   OF 
THE  ISTHMUS. 

THE  first  care  of  Nicuesa,  on  resuming  the  general  com- 
mand, was  to  take  measures  for  the  relief  of  his  people  who 
were  perishing  with  famine  and  disease.  All  those  who 
were  in  health,  or  who  had  strength  sufficient  to  bear  the 
least  fatigue,  were  sent  on  foraging  parties  among  the  fields 
and  villages  of  the  natives.  It  was  a  service  of  extreme 
peril,  for  the  Indians  of  this  part  of  the  coast  were  fierce  and 
warlike,  and  were  the  same  who  had  proved  so  formidable 
to  Columbus  and  his  brother  when  they  attempted  to  found 
a  settlement  in  this  neighborhood. 

Many  of  the  Spaniards  were  slain  hi  these  expeditions. 
Even  if  they  succeeded  in  collecting  provisions,  the  toil  of 
bringing  them  to  the  harbor  was  worse  to  men  in  their  en- 
feebled condition  than  the  task  of  fighting  for  them;  for 
they  were  obliged  to  transport  them  on  their  backs,  and,  thus 
heavily  laden,  to  scramble  over  rugged  rocks,  through  almost 
impervious  forests,  and  across  dismal  swamps. 

Harassed  by  these  perils  and  fatigues,  they  broke  forth 
into  murmurs  against  their  commander,  accusing  him,  not 
merely  of  indifference  to  their  sufferings,  but  of  wantonly 
imposing  severe  and  unnecessary  tasks  upon  them  out  of 
revenge  for  their  having  neglected  him. 

The  genial  temper  of  Nicuesa  had,  in  fact,  been  soured 
by  disappointment ;  and  a  series  of  harassing  cares  and  evils 
had  rendered  him  irritable  and  impatient;  but  he  was  a 
cavalier  of  a  generous  and  honorable  nature,  and  does  not 
appear  to  have  enforced  any  services  that  were  not  indispen- 
sable to  the  common  safety.  In  fact  the  famine  had  increased 


Spaniel?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  407 

to  such  a  degree,  that,  we  are  told,  thirty  Spaniards,  having 
on  one  occasion  found  the  dead  body  of  an  Indian  in  a  state 
of  decay,  they  were  driven  by  hunger  to  make  a  meal  of  it, 
and  were  so  infected  by  the  horrible  repast  that  not  one  of 
them  survived. 

Disheartened  by  these  miseries,  Nicuesa  determined  to 
abandon  a  place  which  seemed  destined  to  be  the  grave  of 
Spaniards.  Embarking  the  greater  part  of  his  men  in  the 
two  brigantines  and  the  caravel  which  had  been  built  by 
Olano,  he  set  sail  eastward  in  search  of  some  more  favorable 
situation  for  his  settlement.  A  number  of  the  men  remained 
behind  to  await  the  ripening  of  some  maize  and  vegetables 
which  they  had  sown.  These  he  left  under  the  command  of 
Alonzo  Nunez,  whom  he  nominated  his  alcalde  mayor. 

When  Nicuesa  had  coasted  about  four  leagues  to  the  east, 
a  Genoese  sailor,  who  had  been  with  Columbus  in  his  last 
voyage,  informed  him  that  there  was  a  fine  harbor  some- 
where in  that  neighborhood,  which  had  pleased  the  old 
admiral  so  highly  that  he  had  given  it  the  name  of  Puerto 
Bello.  He  added  that  they  might  know  the  harbor  by  an 
anchor,  half  buried  in  the  sand,  which  Columbus  had  left 
there ;  near  to  which  was  a  fountain  of  remarkably  cool  and 
sweet  water  springing  up  at  the  foot  of  a  large  tree.  Nicuesa 
ordered  search  to  be  made  along  the  coast,  and  at  length  they 
found  the  anchor,  the  fountain,  and  the  tree.  It  was  the 
same  harbor  which  bears  the  name  of  Portobello  at  the  present 
day.  A  number  of  the  crew  were  sent  on  shore  in  search  of 
provisions,  but  were  assailed  by  the  Indians;  and,  being  too 
weak  to  wield  their  weapons  with  their  usual  prowess,  were 
driven  back  to  the  vessels  with  the  loss  of  several  slain  or 
wounded. 

Dejected  at  these  continual  misfortunes,  Nicuesa  con- 
tinued his  voyage  seven  leagues  further,  until  he  came  to  4he 
harbor  to  which  Columbus  had  given  the  name  of  Puerto  de 
Bastimientos,  or,  Port  of  Provisions.  It  presented  ac  ad- 

*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  i.  and  viii,,  c.  2. 


408  Worlds  of 

vantageous  situation  for  a  fortress,  and  was  surrounded  by 
a  fruitful  country.  Nicuesa  resolved  to  make  it  his  abiding 
place.  "Here,"  said  he,  "let  us  stop,  en  el  nombre  de 
Dios!"  (in  the  name  of  God).  His  followers,  with  the  super- 
stitious feeling  with  which  men  in  adversity  are  prone  to 
interpret  everything  into  omens,  persuaded  themselves  that 
there  was  favorable  augury  in  his  words,  and  called  the 
harbor  "Nombre  de  Dios,"  which  name  it  afterward  retained. 

Nicuesa  now  landed,  and,  drawing  his  sword,  took  solemn 
possession  hi  the  name  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns.  He  im- 
mediately began  to  erect  a  fortress  to  protect  his  people  against 
the  attacks  of  the  savages.  As  this  was  a  case  of  exigency, 
he  exacted  the  labor  of  every  one  capable  of  exertion.  The 
Spaniards,  thus  equally  distressed  by  famine  and  toil,  forgot 
their  favorable  omen,  cursed  the  place  as  fated  to  be  their 
grave,  and  called  down  imprecations  on  the  head  of  their 
commander,  who  compelled  them  to  labor  when  ready  to 
sink  with  hunger  and  debility.  Those  murmured  no  less 
who  were  sent  in  quest  of  food,  which  was  only  to  be  gained 
by  fatigue  and  bloodshed;  for,  whatever  they  collected,  they 
had  to  transport  from  great  distances,  and  they  were  fre- 
quently waylaid  and  assaulted  by  the  Indians. 

When  he  could  spare  men  for  the  purpose,  Nicuesa  dis- 
patched the  caravel  for  those  whom  he  had  left  at  the  river 
Belen.  Many  of  them  had  perished,  and  the  survivors  had 
been  reduced  to  such  famine  at  times  as  to  eat  all  kinds  of 
reptiles,  until  a  part  of  an  alligator  was  a  banquet  to  them. 
On  mustering  all  his  forces  when  thus  united,  Nicuesa  found 
that  but  one  hundred  emaciated  and  dejected  wretches  re- 
mained. 

He  dispatched  the  caravel  to  Hispaniola,  to  bring  a  quan- 
tity of  bacon  which  he  had  ordered  to  have  prepared  there, 
but  it  never  returned.  He  ordered  Gonzalo  de  Badajos,  at 
the  head  of  twenty  men,  to  scour  the  country  for  provisions; 
but  the  Indians  had  ceased  to  cultivate ;  they  could  do  with 
little  food  and  could  subsist  on  the  roots  and  wild  fruits  of 
the  forest.  The  Spaniards,  therefore,  found  deserted  villages 


Spatial?  Voyages  of  Discovery  409 

and  barren  fields,  but  lurking  enemies  at  every  defile.  So 
deplorably  were  they  reduced  by  their  sufferings  that  at 
length  there  were  not  left  a  sufficient  number  in  health  and 
strength  to  mount  guard  at  night ;  and  the  fortress  remained 
without  sentinels.  Such  was  the  desperate  situation  of  this 
once  gay  and  gallant  cavalier,  and  of  his  brilliant  armament, 
which  but  a  few  months  before  had  sailed  from  San  Domingo, 
flushed  with  the  consciousness  of  power  and  the  assurance 
that  they  had  the  means  of  compelling  the  favors  of  fortune. 
It  is  necessary  to  leave  them  for  a  while,  and  turn  our 
attention  to  other  events  which  will  ultimately  be  found  to 
bear  upon  their  destinies. 


CHAPTER  SIX 

EXPEDITION  OF   THE   BACHELOR  ENCISO  IN  SEARCH   OF 
THE   SEAT   OF   GOVERNMENT   OF    OJEDA — (1510) 

IN  calling  to  mind  the  narrative  of  the  last  expedition  of 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  the  reader  will  doubtless  remember  the 
Bachelor  Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso,  who  was  inspired  by 
that  adventurous  cavalier  with  an  ill-starred  passion  for  col- 
onizing, and  freighted  a  vessel  at  San  Domingo  with  re-en- 
forcements and  supplies  for  the  settlement  at  San  Sebastian. 

"When  the  Bachelor  was  on  the  eve  of  sailing,  a  number 
of  the  loose  hangers-on  of  the  colony,  and  men  encumbered 
with  debt,  concerted  to  join  his  ship  from  the  coast  and  the 
outports.  Their  creditors,  however,  getting  notice  of  their 
intention,  kept  a  close  watch  upon  every  one  that  went  on 
board  while  hi  the  harbor,  and  obtained  an  armed  vessel  from 
the  Admiral  Don  Diego  Columbus,  to  escort  the  enterprising 
Bachelor  clear  of  the  island.  One  man,  however,  contrived 
to  elude  these  precautions,  and  as  he  afterward  rose  to  great 
importance,  it  is  proper  to  notice  him  particularly.  His  name 
was  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa.  He  was  a  native  of  Xeres  de  los 

*  *  *  R  VOL.  V. 


410  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?Ir)$toi> 

Caballeros,  and  of  a  noble  though  impoverished  family.  He 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  service  of  Don  Puerto  Carrero, 
Lord  of  Moguer,  and  he  afterward  enlisted  among  the  adven- 
turers who  accompanied  Rodrigo  de  Bastides  in  his  voyage  of 
discovery.  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  Latin  decades,  speaks  of  him 
by  the  appellation  of  "egregius  digladiator, "  which  has  been 
interpreted  by  some  as  a  skillful  swordsman,  by  others  as  an 
adroit  fencing  master.  He  intimates,  also,  that  he  was  a 
mere  soldier  of  fortune,  of  loose  prodigal  habits,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  he  is  first  introduced  to  us  justify 
this  character.  He  had  fixed  himself  for  a  time  in  His- 
paniola,  and  undertaken  to  cultivate  a  farm  at  the  town  of 
Salvatierra,  on  the  seacoast,  but  in  a  little  time  had  com- 
pletely involved  himself  hi  debt.  The  expedition  of  Enciso 
presented  him  with  an  opportunity  of  escaping  from  his  em- 
barrassments, and  of  indulging  his  adventurous  habits.  To 
elude  the  vigilance  of  his  creditors  and  of  the  armed  escort, 
he  concealed  himself  in  a  cask,  which  was  conveyed  from 
his  farm  on  the  seacoast  on  board  of  the  vessel,  as  if  contain- 
ing provisions  for  the  voyage.  When  the  vessel  was  fairly 
out  at  sea,  and  abandoned  by  the  escort,  Vasco  Nunex  emerged 
like  an  apparition  from  his  cask,  to  the  great  surprise  of  En- 
ciso, who  had  been  totally  ignorant  of  the  stratagem.  The 
Bachelor  was  indignant  at  being  thus  outwitted,  even  though 
he  gained  a  recruit  by  the  deception ;  and  in  the  first  ebulli- 
tion of  his  wrath  gave  the  fugitive  debtor  a  very  rough  re- 
ception, threatening  to  put  him  on  shore  on  the  first  uninhab- 
ited island  they  should  encounter.  Vasco  Nunez,  however, 
succeeded  in  pacifying  him,  "For  God,"  says  the  venerable 
Las  Casas,  "reserved  him  for  greater  things."  It  is  prob- 
able the  Bachelor  beheld  in  him  a  man  well  fitted  for  his 
expedition,  for  Vasco  Nunez  was  in  the  prime  and  vigor 
of  his  days,  tall  and  muscular,  seasoned  to  hardships,  and  of 
intrepid  spirit. 

Arriving  at  the  mainland,  they  touched  at  the  fatal  har- 
bor of  Carthagena,  the  scene  of  the  sanguinary  conflicts  of 
Ojeda  and  Nicuesa  with  the  natives,  and  of  the  death  of  the 


Spai)isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  411 

brave  Juan  de  la  Cosa.  Enciso  was  ignorant  of  those  events, 
having  had  no  tidings  from  those  adventurers  since  their 
departure  from  San  Domingo;  without  any  hesitation,  there- 
fore, he  landed  a  number  of  his  men  to  repair  his  boat,  which 
was  damaged,  and  to  procure  water.  While  the  men  were 
working  upon  the  boat,  a  multitude  of  Indians  gathered  at  a 
distance,  well  armed,  and  with  menacing  aspect,  sounding 
their  shells  and  brandishing  their  weapons.  The  experience 
they  had  had  of  the  tremendous  powers  of  the  strangers, 
however,  rendered  them  cautious  of  attacking,  and  for  three 
days  they  hovered  in  this  manner  about  the  Spaniards,  the 
latter  being  obliged  to  keep  continually  on  the  alert.  At 
length  two  of  the  Spaniards  ventured  one  day  from  the  main 
body  to  fill  a  water  cask  from  the  adjacent  river.  Scarcely 
had  they  reached  the  margin  of  the  stream,  when  eleven 
savages  sprang  from  the  thickets  and  surrounded  them,  bend- 
ing their  bows  and  pointing  their  arrows.  In  this  way  they 
stood  for  a  moment  or  two  in  fearful  suspense,  the  Indians 
refraining  from  discharging  their  shafts,  but  keeping  them 
constantly  pointed  at  their  breasts.  One  of  the  Spaniards  at- 
tempted to  escape  to  his  comrades,  who  were  repairing  the 
boat,  but  the  other  called  him  back,  and  understanding  some- 
thing of  the  Indian  tongue,  addressed  a  few  amicable  words 
to  the  savages.  The  latter,  astonished  at  being  spoken  to  in 
their  own  language,  now  relaxed  a  little  from  their  fierce- 
ness, and  demanded  of  the  strangers  who  they  were,  who 
were  their  leaders,  and  what  they  sought  upon  their  shores. 
The  Spaniard  replied  that  they  were  harmless  people  who 
came  from  other  lands,  and  merely  touched  there  through 
necessity,  and  he  wondered  that  they  should  meet  them  with 
such  hostility ;  he  at  the  same  time  warned  them  to  beware, 
as  there  would  come  many  of  his  countrymen  well  armed  and 
would  wreak  terrible  vengeance  upon  them  for  any  mischief 
they  might  do.  "While  they  were  thus  parleying,  the  Bach- 
elor Enciso,  hearing  that  two  of  his  men  were  surrounded  by 
the  savages,  sallied  instantly  from  his  ship,  and  hastened 
with  an  armed  force  to  their  rescue.  As  he  approached, 


however,  the  Spaniard  who  had  held  the  parley  made  him 
a  signal  that  the  natives  were  pacific.  In  fact,  the  latter  had 
supposed  that  this  was  a  new  invasion  of  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa, 
and  had  thus  arrayed  themselves,  if  not  to  take  vengeance 
for  past  outrages,  at  least  to  defend  their  houses  from  a  sec- 
ond desolation.  When  they  were  convinced,  however,  that 
these  were  a  totally  different  band  of  strangers,  and  without 
hostile  intentions,  their  animosity  was  at  an  end ;  they  threw 
by  their  weapons  and  came  forward  with  the  most  confiding 
frankness.  During  the  whole  time  that  the  Spaniards  re- 
mained there,  they  treated  them  with  the  greatest  friendship, 
supplying  them  with  bread  made  from  maize,  with  salted  fish, 
and  with  the  fermented  and  spirituous  beverages  common 
along  that  coast.  Such  was  the  magnanimous  conduct  of 
men  who  were  considered  among  the  most  ferocious  and 
warlike  of  these  savage  nations ;  and  who  but  recently  had 
beheld  their  shores  invaded,  their  villages  ravaged  and 
burned,  and  their  friends  and  relations  butchered,  without 
regard  to  age  or  sex,  by  the  countrymen  of  these  very 
strangers.  When  we  recall  the  bloody  and  indiscriminate 
vengeance  wreaked  upon  this  people  by  Ojeda  and  his  fol- 
lowers for  their  justifiable  resistance  of  invasion,  and  com- 
pare it  with  their  placable  and  considerate  spirit  when  an 
opportunity  for  revenge  presented  itself,  we  confess  we  feel 
a  momentary  doubt  whether  the  arbitrary  appellation  of 
savage  is  always  applied  to  the  right  party. 


CHAPTER    SEVEN 

THE  BACHELOR   HEARS    UNWELCOME   TIDING  OF   HIS 
DESTINED   JURISDICTION 

NOT  long  after  the  arrival  of  Enciso  at  this  eventful  har- 
bor he  was  surprised  by  the  circumstance  of  a  brigantine  en- 
tering and  coming  to  anchor.  To  encounter  a  European  sail 
in  these  almost  unknown  seas  was  always  a  singular  and 


Spai)isl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  413 

striking  occurrence,  but  the  astonishment  of  the  Bachelor 
was  mingled  with  alarm  when,  on  boarding  the  brigantine, 
he  found  that  it  was  manned  by  a  number  of  the  men  who 
had  embarked  with  Ojeda.  His  first  idea  was  that  they  had 
mutinied  against  their  commander  and  deserted  with  the 
vessel.  The  feelings  of  the  magistrate  were  aroused  within 
him  by  the  suspicion,  and  he  determined  to  take  his  first  step 
as  alcalde  mayor  by  seizing  them  and  inflicting  on  them  the 
severity  of  the  law.  He  altered  his  tone,  however,  on  con- 
versing with  their  resolute  commander.  This  was  no  other 
than  Francisco  Pizarro,  whom  Ojeda  had  left  as  his  locum 
tenens  at  San  Sebastian,  and  who  showed  the  Bachelor  his 
letter  patent,  signed  by  that  unfortunate  governor.  In  fact, 
the  little  brigantine  contained  the  sad  remnant  of  the  once 
vaunted  colony.  After  the  departure  of  Ojeda  in  the  pirate 
ship,  his  followers,  whom  he  had  left  behind  under  the  com- 
mand of  Pizarro,  continued  in  the  fortress  until  the  stipulated 
term  of  fifty  days  had  expired.  Receiving  no  succor,  and 
hearing  no  tidings  of  Ojeda,  they  then  determined  to  embark 
and  sail  for  Hispaniola ;  but  here  an  unthought-of  difficulty 
presented  itself:  they  were  seventy  in  number,  and  the  two 
brigantines  which  had  been  left  with  them  were  incapable  of 
taking  so  many.  They  came  to  the  forlorn  agreement,  there- 
fore, to  remain  until  famine,  sickness,  and  the  poisoned  ar- 
rows of  the  Indians  should  reduce  their  number  to  the  capac- 
ity of  the  brigantines.  A  brief  space  of  time  was  sufficient 
for  the  purpose.  They  then  prepared  for  the  voyage.  Four 
mares,  which  had  been  kept  alive  as  terrors  to  the  Indians, 
were  killed  and  salted  for  sea-stores.  Then  taking  whatever 
other  articles  of  provision  remained,  they  embarked  and  made 
sail.  One  brigantine  was  commanded  by  Pizarro,  the  other 
by  one  Yalenzuela. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when,  in  a  storm,  a  sea  struck 
the  crazy  vessel  of  Valenzuela  with  such  violence  as  to  cause 
it  to  founder  with  all  its  crew.  The  other  brigantine  was  so 
near  that  the  mariners  witnessed  the  struggles  of  their 
drowning  companions  and  heard  their  cries.  Some  of  the 


U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$tor) 

sailors,  with  the  common  disposition  to  the  marvelous,  de- 
clared that  they  had  beheld  a  great  whale,  or  some  other 
monster  of  the  deep,  strike  the  vessel  with  its  tail,  and  either 
stave  in  its  sides  or  shatter  the  rudder,  so  as  to  cause  the 
shipwreck.*  The  surviving  brigantine  then  made  the  best 
of  its  way  to  the  harbor  of  Carthagena  to  seek  provisions. 

Such  was  the  disastrous  account  rendered  to  the  Bachelor 
by  Pizarro  of  his  destined  jurisdiction.  Enciso,  however, 
was  of  a  confident  mind  and  sanguine  temperament,  and 
trusted  to  restore  all  things  to  order  and  prosperity  on  his 
arrival. 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

CRUSADE   OP   THE   BACHELOR   ENCISO  AGAINST   THE 
SEPULCHERS   OF  ZENU 

THE  Bachelor  Enciso,  as  has  been  shown,  was  a  man  of 
the  sword  as  well  as  of  the  robe ;  having  doubtless  imbibed 
a  passion  for  military  exploit  from  his  intimacy  with  the  dis- 
coverers. Accordingly,  while  at  Carthagena,  he  was  visited 
by  an  impulse  of  the  kind,  and  undertook  an  enterprise  that 
would  have  been  worthy  of  his  friend-  Ojeda.  He  had  been 
told  by  the  Indians  that  about  twenty-five  leagues  to  the 
west  lay  a  province  called  Zenu,  the  mountains  of  which 
abounded  with  the  finest  gold.  This  was  washed  down  by 
torrents  during  the  rainy  season  in  such  quantities  that  the 
natives  stretched  nets  across  the  rivers  to  catch  the  largest 
particles ;  some  of  which  were  said  to  be  as  large  as  eggs. 

The  idea  of  taking  gold  in  nets  captiyated  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  Bachelor,  and  his  cupidity  was  still  more  excited 
by  further  accounts  of  this  wealthy  province.  He  was  told 
that  Zenu  was  the  general  place  of  sepulcher  of  the  Indian 
tribes  throughout  the  country,  whither  they  brought  their 

*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  i.  1.  vii.  c.  10. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  415 

dead,  and  buried  them,  according  to  their  custom,  decorated 
with  their  most  precious  ornaments. 

It  appeared  to  him  a  matter  of  course,  therefore,  that 
there  must  be  an  immense  accumulation  of  riches  in  the  In- 
dian tombs,  from  the  golden  ornaments  that  had  been  buried 
with  the  dead  through  a  long  series  of  generations.  Fired 
with  the  thought,  he  determined  to  make  a  foray  into  this 
province,  and  to  sack  the  sepulchers!  Neither  did  he  feel 
any  compunction  at  the  idea  of  plundering  the  dead,  consid- 
ering the  deceased  as  pagans  and  infidels,  who  had  forfeited 
even  the  sanctuary  of  the  grave,  by  having  been  buried  ac- 
cording to  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  their  idolatrous  religion. 

Enciso,  accordingly,  made  sail  from  Carthagena  and 
landed  with  his  forces  on  the  coast  of  Zenu.  Here  he  was 
promptly  opposed  by  two  caciques,  at  the  head  of  a  large 
band  of  warriors.  The  Bachelor,  though  he  had  thus  put 
on  the  soldier,  retained  sufficient  of  the  spirit  of  his  former 
calling  not  to  enter  into  quarrel  without  taking  care  to  have 
the  law  on  his  side;  he  proceeded  regularly,  therefore,  ac- 
cording to  the  legal  form  recently  enjoined  by  the  crown. 
He  caused  to  be  read  and  interpreted  to  the  caciques  the 
same  formula  used  by  Ojeda,  expounding  the  nature  of  the 
Deity,  the  supremacy  of  the  Pope,  and  the  right  of  the  Catho- 
lic sovereigns  to  all  these  lands,  by  virtue  of  a  grant  from  his 
holiness.  The  caciques  listened  to  the  whole  very  attentively 
and  without  interruption,  according  to  the  laws  of  Indian 
courtesy.  They  then  replied  that,  as  to  the  assertion  that 
there  was  but  one  God,  the  sovereign  of  heaven  and  earth,  it 
seemed  to  them  good,  and  that  such  must  be  the  case ;  but 
as  to  the  doctrine  that  the  Pope  was  regent  of  the  world  in 
place  of  God,  and  that  he  had  made  a  grant  of  their  country 
to  the  Spanish  king,  they  observed  that  the  Pope  must  have 
been  drunk  to  give  away  what  was  not  his,  and  the  king 
must  have  been  somewhat  mad  to  ask  at  his  hands  what  be- 
longed to  others.  They  added  that  they  were  lords  of  those 
lands  and  needed  no  other  sovereign,  and  if  this  king  should 
come  to  take  possession  they  would  cut  off  his  head  and  put 


4 16  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ir><}toi} 

it  on  a  pole ;  that  being  their  mode  of  dealing  with  their  ene- 
mies. As  an  illustration  of  this  custom  they  pointed  out  to 
Enciso  the  very  uncomfortable  spectacle  of  a  row  of  grisly 
heads  impaled  in  the  neighborhood. 

Nothing  daunted,  either  by  the  reply  or  the  illustration, 
the  Bachelor  menaced  them  with  war  and  slavery  as  the  con- 
sequences of  their  refusal  to  believe  and  submit.  They  re- 
plied by  threatening  to  put  his  head  upon  a  pole  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  his  sovereign.  The  Bachelor,  having  furnished 
them  with  the  law,  now  proceeded  to  the  commentary.  He 
attacked  the  Indians,  routed  them,  and  took  one  of  the  ca- 
ciques prisoner,  but  in  the  skirmish  two  of  his  men  were 
slightly  wounded  with  poisoned  arrows,  and  died  raving  with 
torment.  * 

It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  his  crusade  against  the 
sepulchers  was  attended  with  any  lucrative  advantage.  Per- 
haps the  experience  he  had  received  of  the  hostility  of  the 
natives,  and  of  the  fatal  effects  of  their  poisoned  arrows,  pre- 
vented his  penetrating  into  the  land  with  his  scanty  force. 
Certain  it  is,  the  reputed  wealth  of  Zenu,  and  the  tale  of  its 
fishery  for  gold  with  nets,  remained  unascertained  and  un- 
contradicted,  and  were  the  cause  of  subsequent  and  disastrous 
enterprises.  The  Bachelor  contented  himself  with  his  vic- 
tory, and  returning  to  his  ships,  prepared  to  continue  his 
voyage  for  the  seat  of  government  established  by  Ojeda  in 
the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 

*  The  above  anecdote  is  related  by  the  Bachelor  Enciso  himself  in  a 
geographical  work  entitled  "Suma  de  Geographia,"  which  he  published 
in  Seville  in  1519.  As  the  reply  of  the  poor  savages  contains  something 
of  natural  logic,  we  give  a  part  of  it  as  reported  by  the  Bachelor. — "Re- 
spondieron  me:  que  en  lo  que  dezia  que  no  avia  sino  un  dios  y  que  este 
governaba  el  cielo  y  la  tierra  y  que  era  sefior  de  todo  que  les  parecia  y 
que  asi  debia  ser:  pero  que  en  lo  que  dezia  que  el  papa  era  sefior  de  todo 
el  universe  en  lugar  de  dios  y  que  el  avia  fecho  merced  de  aquella  tierra 
al  rey  de  Castilla;  dixeron  que  el  papa  debiera  estar  boracho  quando  lo 
hizo  pues  daba  lo  que  no  era  suyo,  y  que  el  rey  que  pedia  y  tomava  tal 
merced  debia  ser  algun  loco  pues  pedia  lo  que  era  de  otros,"  etc. 


Spapisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  417 


CHAPTER   NINE 

THE  BACHELOR   ARRIVES  AT  SAN  SEBASTIAN — HIS  DISASTERS 
THERE,  AND  SUBSEQUENT  EXPLOITS  AT  DARIEN 

IT  was  not  without  extreme  difficulty,  and  the  peremp- 
tory exercise  of  his  authority  as  alcalde  mayor,  that.  Enciso 
prevailed  upon  the  crew  of  Pizarro  to  return  with  him  to  the 
fated  shores  of  San  Sebastian.  He  at  length  arrived  in  sight 
of  the  long-wished-for  seat  of  his  anticipated  power  and  au- 
thority; but  here  he  was  doomed  like  his  principal,  Ojeda, 
to  meet  with  nothing  but  misfortune.  On  entering  the  har- 
bor his  vessel  struck  on  a  rock  on  the  eastern  point.  The 
rapid  currents  and  tumultuous  waves  rent  it  to  pieces ;  the 
crew  escaped  with  great  difficulty  to  the  brigantine  of  Pi- 
zarro ;  a  little  flour,  cheese,  and  biscuit,  and  a  small  part  of 
the  arms  were  saved,  but  the  horses,  mares,  swine,  and  all 
other  colonial  supplies  were  swept  away,  and  the  unfortunate 
Bachelor  beheld  the  proceeds  of  several  years  of  prosperous 
litigation  swallowed  up  in  an  instant. 

His  dream  of  place  and  dignity  seemed  equally  on  the 
point  of  vanishing,  for,  on  landing,  he  found  the  fortress  and 
its  adjacent  houses  mere  heaps  of  ruins,  having  been  de- 
stroyed with  fire  by  the  Indians. 

For  a  few  days  the  Spaniards  maintained  themselves  with 
palm  nuts,  and  with  the  flesh  of  a  kind  of  wild  swine,  of 
which  they  met  with  several  herds.  These  supplies  failing, 
the  Bachelor  sallied  forth  with  a  hundred  men  to  forage  the 
country.  They  were  waylaid  by  three  Indians,  who  dis- 
charged all  the  arrows  in  their  quivers  with  incredible  rapid- 
ity, wounded  several  Spaniards,  and  then  fled  with  a  swift- 
ness that  defied^  pursuit.  The  Spaniards  returned  to  the 
harbor  in  dismay.  All  their  dread  of  the  lurking  savages 
and  their  poisoned  weapons  revived,  and  they  insisted  upi,n 
abandoning  a  place  marked  out  for  disaster. 


418  Uterus  of  U/a8l?ir)$toi)  Irufi}$ 

The  Bachelor  Enciso  was  himself  disheartened  at  the 
situation  of  this  boasted  capital  of  San  Sebastian;  but 
whither  could  he  go  where  the  same  misfortunes  might 
not  attend  him?  In  this  moment  of  doubt  and  despond 
ency,  Vasco  Nunez,  the  same  absconding  debtor  who  had 
been  smuggled  on  board  in  the  cask,  stepped  forward  to 
give  counsel.  He  informed  the  Bachelor  that  several  years 
previously  he  had  sailed  along  that  coast  with  Rodrigo  de 
Bastides.  They  had  explored  the  whole  Gulf  of  Uraba;  and 
he  well  remembered  an  Indian  village  situated  on  the  west- 
ern side,  on  the  banks  of  a  river  which  the  natives  called 
Darien.  The  country  around  was  fertile  and  abundant,  and 
was  said  to  possess  mines  of  gold;  and  the  natives,  though  a 
warlike  race,  never  made  use  of  poisoned  weapons.  He  of- 
fered to  guide  the  Bachelor  to  this  place,  where  they  might 
get  a  supply  of  provisions,  and  even  found  their  colony. 

The  Spaniards  hailed  the  words  of  Vasco  Nunez  as  if  re- 
vealing a  land  of  promise.  The  Bachelor  adopted  his  advice, 
and,  guided  by  him,  set  sail  for  the  village,  determined  to 
eject  the  inhabitants  and  take  possession  of  it  as  the  seat  of 
government.  Arrived  at  the  river,  he  landed,  put  his  men 
in  martial  array,  and  marched  along  the  banks.  The  place 
was  governed  by  a  brave  cacique  named  Zemaco.  When  he 
heard  of  the  approach  of  the  Spaniards,  he  sent  off  the  women 
and  children  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  posting  himself  with 
five  hundred  of  his  warriors  on  a  height,  prepared  to  give 
the  intruders  a  warm  reception.  The  Bachelor  was  a  dis- 
coverer at  all  points,  pious,  daring,  and  rapacious.  On  be- 
holding this  martial  array  he  recommended  himself  and  his 
followers  to  God,  making  a  vow  in  their  name  to  "Our  Lady 
of  Antigua,"  whose  image  is  adored  with  great  devotion  in 
Seville,  that  the  first  church  and  town  which  they  built 
should  be  dedicated  to  her,  and  that  they  would  make  a  pil- 
grimage to  Seville  to  offer  the  spoils  of  the  heathen  at  her 
shrine.  Having  thus  endeavored  to  propitiate  the  favor  of 
Heaven,  and  to  retain  the  Holy  Virgin  in  his  cause,  he  next 
proceeded  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  his  followers.  Doubting 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  419 

that  they  might  have  some  lurking  dread  of  poisoned  arrows, 
he  exacted  from  them  all  an  oath  that  they  would  not  turn 
their  backs  upon  the  foe,  whatever  might  happen.  Never 
did  warrior  enter  into  battle  with  more  preliminary  forms 
and  covenants  than  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  All  these  points 
being  arranged,  he  assumed  the  soldier,  and  attacked  the 
enemy  with  such  valor  that,  though  they  made  at  first  a 
show  of  fierce  resistance,  they  were  soon  put  to  flight,  and 
many  of  them  slain.  The  Bachelor  entered  the  village  in 
triumph,  "took  possession  of  it  by  unquestionable  right  of  con- 
quest, and  plundered  all  the  hamlets  and  houses  of  the  sur- 
i-ounding  country;  collecting  great  quantities  of  food  and 
cotton,  with  bracelets,  anklets,  plates,  and  other  ornaments 
of  gold,  to  the  value  of  ten  thousand  castellanos.*  His  heari 
was  wonderfully  elated  by  his  victory  and  his  booty;  his  fol- 
lowers, also,  after  so  many  hardships  and  disasters,  gave 
themselves  up  to  joy  at  this  turn  of  good  fortune,  and  it  was 
unanimously  agreed  that  the  seat  of  government  should  be 
established  in  this  village;  to  which,  in  fulfillment  ©f  his 
vow,  Enciso  gave  the  name  of  Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua 
del  Darien. 


CHAPTER    TEN 

THE  BACHELOR    ENCISO    UNDERTAKES    THE    COMMAND — HIS 

DOWNFALL, 

THE  Bachelor  Enciso  now  entered  upon  the  exercise  of 
his  civil  functions  as  alcalde  mayor,  and  lieutenant  of  the 
absent  governor,  Ojeda.  His  first  edict  was  stern  and  per- 
emptory ;  he  forbade  all  trafficking  with  the  natives  for  gold, 
on  private  account,  under  pain  of  death.  This  was  in  con- 
formity to  royal  command ;  but  it  was  little  palatable  to  men 
who  had  engaged  in  the  enterprise  in  the  hopes  of  enjoying 
free  trade,  lawless  liberty,  and  golden  gains.  They  mur- 

*  Equivalent  to  a  present  sum  of  53,259  dollars. 


420  U/or^s  of 

mured  among  themselves,  and  insinuated  that  Enciso  in- 
tended to  reserve  all  the  profit  to  himself. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  the  first  to  take  advantage  of  the  gen- 
eral discontent.  He  had  risen  to  consequence  among  his  fel- 
low adventurers  from  having  guided  them  to  this  place,  and 
from  his  own  intrinsic  qualities,  being  hardy,  bold,  and  intel 
ligent,  and  possessing  the  random  spirit  and  open-handed 
generosity  common  to  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  calculated  to 
dazzle  and  delight  the  multitude. 

He  bore  no  good  will  to  the  Bachelor,  recollecting  his 
threat  of  landing  him  on  an  uninhabited  island,  when  he 
escaped  in  a  cask  from  San  Domingo.  He  sought,  there- 
fore, to  make  a  party  against  him,  and  to  unseat  him  from 
his  command.  He  attacked  him  in  his  own  way,  with  legal 
weapons,  questioning  the  legitimacy  of  his  pretensions.  The 
boundary  line,  he  observed,  which  separated  the  jurisdictions 
of  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa  ran  through  the  center  of  the  Gulf  of 
Uraba.  The  village  of  Darien  lay  on  the  western  side,  which 
had  been  allotted  to  Nicuesa.  Enciso,  therefore,  as  alcalde 
mayor  and  lieutenant  of  Ojeda,  could  have  no  jurisdiction 
here,  and  his  assumed  authority  was  a  sheer  usurpation. 

The  Spaniards,  already  incensed  at  the  fiscal  regulations 
of  Enciso,  were  easily  convinced;  so  with  one  accord  they 
refused  allegiance  to  him;  and  the  unfortunate  Bachelor 
found  the  chair  of  authority  to  which  he  had  so  fondly  and 
anxiously  aspired  suddenly  wrested  from  under  him,  before 
he  had  well  time  to  take  his  seat. 


CHAPTER   ELEVEN 

PERPLEXITIES  AT   THE   COLONY — ARRIVAL  OF  COLMENARES 

To  depose  the  Bachelor  had  been  an  easy  matter,  for  most 
men  are  ready  to  assist  hi  pulling  down ;  but  to  choose  a  suc- 
cessor was  a  task  of  far  more  difficulty.  The  people  at  first 
agreed  to  elect  mere  civil  magistrates,  and  accordingly  ap- 


8pai>!sl?  l/oya$es  of  Discovery  421 

pointed  Vasco  Nunez  and  one  Zamudio  as  alcaldes,  together 
with  a  cavalier  of  some  merit  of  the  name  of  Valdivia  as 
regidor.  They  soon,  however,  became  dissatisfied  with  this 
arrangement,  and  it  was  generally  considered  advisable  to 
vest  the  authority  in  one  person.  Who  this  person  should 
be  was  now  the  question.  Some  proposed  Nicuesa,  as  they 
were  within  his  province ;  others  were  strenuous  for  Vasco 
Nunez.  A  violent  dispute  ensued,  which  was  carried  on 
with  such  heat  and  obstinacy  that  many,  anxious  for  a 
quiet  life,  declared  it  would  be  better  to  reinstate  Enciso 
until  the  pleasure  of  the  king  should  be  known. 

In  the  height  of  these  factious  altercations  the  Spaniards 
were  aroused  one  day  by  the  thundering  of  cannon  from  the 
opposite  side  of  the  gulf,  and  beheld  columns  of  smoke  rising 
from  the  hills.  Astonished  at  these  signals  of  civilized  man 
on  these  wild  shores,  they  replied  in  the  same  manner,  and 
in  a  short  time  two  ships  were  seen  standing  across  the  gulf. 
They  proved  to  be  an  armament  commanded  by  one  Rodrigo 
de  Colmenares,  and  were  in  search  of  Nicuesa  with  supplies. 
They  had  met  with  the  usual  luck  of  adventurers  on  this  dis- 
astrous coast,  storms  at  sea  and  savage  foes  on  shore,  and 
many  of  their  number  had  fallen  by  poisoned  arrows.  Col- 
menares had  touched  at  San  Sebastian  to  learn  tidings  of 
Nicuesa ;  but,  finding  the  fortress  in  ruins,  had  made  signals, 
in  hopes  of  being  heard  by  the  Spaniards,  should  they  be  yet 
lingering  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  arrival  of  Colmenares  caused  a  temporary  suspension 
of  the  feuds  of  the  colonists.  He  distributed  provisions  among 
them  and  gained  their  hearts.  Then,  representing  the  legiti- 
mate right  of  Nicuesa  to  the  command  of  all  that  part  of  the 
coast  as  a  governor  appointed  by  the  king,  he  persuaded  the 
greater  part  of  the  people  to  acknowledge  his  authority.  It 
was  generally  agreed,  therefore,  that  he  should  cruise  along 
the  coast  in  search  of  Nicuesa,  and  that  Diego  de  Albitez, 
and  an  active  member  of  the  law,  called  the  Bachelor  Corral, 
should  accompany  him  as  embassadore,  to  invite  that  cavalier 
to  come  and  assume  the  government  of  Darien. 


of 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 

COLMENARES   GOES    IN    QUEST   OF  NICUESA 

RODEIGO  DE  COLMENARES  proceeded  along  the  coast  to 
the  westward,  looking  into  every  bay  and  harbor,  but  for  a 
long  time  without  success.  At  length  one  day  he  discovered 
a  brigantine  at  a  small  island  in  the  sea.  On  making  up  to 
it,  he  found  that  it  was  part  of  the  armament  of  Nicuesa, 
and  had  been  sent  out  by  him  to  forage  for  provisions.  By 
this  vessel  he  was  piloted  to  the  port  of  Nombre  de  Dios,  the 
nominal  capital  of  the  unfortunate  governor,  but  which  was 
so  surrounded  and  overshadowed  by  forests  that  he  might 
have  passed  by  without  noticing  it. 

The  arrival  of  Colmenares  was  welcomed  with  transports 
and  tears  of  joy.  It  was  scarcely  possible  for  him  to  recog- 
nize the  once  buoyant  and  brilliant  Nicuesa  in  the  squalid 
and  dejected  man  before  him.  He  was  living  in  the  most 
abject  misery.  Of  all  his  once  gallant  and  powerful  band  of 
followers  but  sixty  men  remained,  and  those  so  feeble,  yel- 
low, emaciated,  and  woebegone,  that  it  was  piteous  to  behold 
them.* 

Colmenares  distributed  food  among  them,  and  told  them 

*  The  harbor  of  Nombre  de  Dios  continued  for  a  long  time  to  pre- 
sent traces  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Spaniards.  We  are  told  by  Herrera 
that,  several  years  after  the  time  here  mentioned,  a  band  of  eighty 
Spanish  soldiers  commanded  by  Gonzalo  de  Badajos  arrived  at  the  har- 
bor with  an  intention  of  penetrating  into  the  interior.  They  found 
there  the  ruined  fort  of  Nicuesa,  together  with  skulls  and  bones  and 
crosses  erected  on  heaps  of  stones,  dismal  mementos  of  his  followers, 
who  had  perished  of  hunger,  the  sight  of  which  struck  such  horror  and 
dismay  into  the  hearts  of  the  soldiers  that  they  would  have  abandoned 
their  enterprise  had  not  their  intrepid  captain  immediately  sent  away 
the  ships  and  thus  deprived  them  of  the  means  of  retreating.  —  Her* 
rera,  d.  xi.  1.  i. 


Spatial?  Voyages  of  Discovery  423 

that  he  had  come  to  convey  them  to  a  plenteous  country,  and 
one  rich  in  gold.  When  Nicuesa  heard  of  the  settlement  at 
Darien,  and  that  the  inhabitants  had  sent  for  him  to  come 
and  govern  them,  he  was  as  a-  man  suddenly  revived  from 
death.  All  the  spirit  and  munificence  of  the  cavalier  again 
awakened  in  him.  He  gave  a  kind  of  banquet  that  very  day 
to  Colmenares  and  the  embassadors,  from  the  provisions 
brought  in  the  ship.  He  presided  at  his  table  with  his  for- 
mer hilarity,  and  displayed  a  feat  of  his  ancient  office  as 
royal  carver,  by  holding  up  a  fowl  in  the  air  and  dissecting 
it  with  wonderful  adroitness. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  Nicuesa  had  the  sudden  buoy- 
ancy of  his  feelings  carried  him  no  further,  but  adversity  had 
not  taught  him  prudence.  In  conversing  with  the  envoys 
about  the  colony  of  Darien,  he  already  assumed  the  tone  of 
governor,  and  began  to  disclose  the  kind  of  policy  with  which 
he  intended  to  rule.  When  he  heard  that  great  quantities  of 
gold  had  been  collected  and  retained  by  private  individuals 
his  ire  was  kindled.  He  vowed  to  make  them  refund  it,  and 
even  talked  of  punishing  them  for  trespassing  upon  the  privi- 
leges and  monopolies  of  the  crown.  This  was  the  very  error 
that  had  unseated  the  Bachelor  Enciso  from  his  government, 
and  it  was  a  strong  measure  for  one  to  threaten  who  as  yet 
was  governor  but  in  expectation.  The  menace  was  not  lost 
upon  the  watchful  embassadors  Diego  de  Albitez  and  the 
Bachelor  Corral.  They  were  put  still  more  on  the  alert  by 
a  conversation  which  they  held  that  very  evening  with  Lope 
de  Olano,  who  was  still  detained  a  prisoner  for  his  desertion, 
but  who  found  means  to  commune  with  the  envoys,  and  to 
prejudice  them  against  his  unsuspecting  commander.  "Take 
warning,"  said  he,  "by  my  treatment.  I  sent  relief  to  Ni- 
cuesa and  rescued  him  from  death  when  starving  on  a  desert 
island.  Behold  my  recompense.  He  repays  me  with  im- 
prisonment and  chains.  Such  is  the  gratitude  the  people  of 
Darien  may  look  for  at  his  hands!" 

The  subtle  Bachelor  Corral  and  his  fellow  envoy  laid  these 
matters  to  heart,  and  took  their  measures  accordingly.  They 


424  U/orKs  of  U/ast?ir}<$toi) 

hurried  their  departure  before  Nicuesa,  and  setting  all  sail  on 
their  caravel,  hastened  back  to  Darien.  The  moment  they 
arrived  they  summoned  a  meeting  of  the  principal  inhabit* 
ants.  "A  blessed  change  we  have  made,"  said  they,  "h\ 
summoning  this  Diego  de  Nicuesa  to  the  command!  We 
have  called  in  the  stork  to  take  the  rule,  who  will  not  rest 
satisfied  until  he  has  devoured  us."  They  then  related,  with 
the  usual  exaggeration,  the  unguarded  threats  that  had  fallen 
from  Nicuesa,  and  instanced  his  treatment  of  Olano  as  a  proof 
of  a  tyrannous  and  ungrateful  disposition. 

The  words  of  the  subtle  Bachelor  Corral  and  his  associate 
produced  a  violent  agitation  among  the  people,  especially 
among  those  who  had  amassed  treasures  which  would  have 
to  be  refunded.  Nicuesa,  too,  by  a  transaction  which  almost 
destroys  sympathy  in  his  favor,  gave  time  for  their  passions 
to  ferment.  On  his  way  to  Darien  he  stopped  for  several 
days  among  a  group  of  small  islands,  for  the  purpose  of 
capturing  Indians  to  be  sold  as  slaves.  While  committing 
these  outrages  against  humanity,  he  sent  forward  Juan  de 
Cayzedo  in  a  boat  to  announce  his  coming.  His  messenger 
had  a  private  pique  against  him,  and  played  him  false.  He 
assured  the  people  of  Darien  that  all  they  had  been  told  by 
their  envoys  concerning  the  tyranny  and  ingratitude  of  Ni- 
cuesa was  true.  That  he  treated  his  followers  with  wanton 
severity;  that  he  took  from  them  all  they  won  in  battle,  say- 
ing that  the  spoils  were  his  rightful  property;  and  that  it 
was  his  intention  to  treat  the  people  of  Darien  in  the  same 
manner.  "What  folly  is  it  in  you,"  added  he,  "being  your 
own  masters,  and  in  such  free  condition,  to  send  for  a  tyrant 
to  rule  over  you!" 

The  people  of  Darien  were  convinced  by  this  concurring 
testimony,  and  confounded  by  the  overwhelming  evil  they 
had  thus  invoked  upon  their  heads.  They  had  deposed  En- 
ciso  for  his  severity,  and  they  had  thrown  themselves  into 
the  power  of  one  who  threatened  to  be  ten  times  more  severe ! 
Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa  observed  their  perplexity  and  con- 
sternation, He  drew  them  one  by  one  apart,  and  conversed 


Voyages  of  Dlsoouery  425 

with  them  in  private.  "You  are  cast  down  in  heart,**  said 
he,  "and  so  you  might  well  be,  were  the  evil  beyond  all  cure. 
But  do  not  despair;  there  is  an  effectual  relief,  and  you  hold 
it  in  your  hands.  If  you  have  committed  a  error  in  inviting 
Nicuesa  to  Darien,  it  is  easily  remedied  by  not  receiving 
him  when  he  comes!"  The  obviousness  and  simplicity  of 
the  remedy  struck  every  mind,  and  it  was  unanimously 
adopted. 

CHAPTER    THIRTEEN 

CATASTROPHE  OF  THE  UNFORTUNATE  NICUESA 

WHILE  this  hostile  plot  was  maturing  at  Darien,  the  un- 
suspecting Nicuesa  pursued  his  voyage  leisurely  and  serenely, 
and  arrived  in  safety  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  On  ap- 
proaching the  shore  he  beheld  a  multitude,  headed  by  Vasco 
Nunez,  waiting,  as  he  supposed,  to  receive  him  with  ill  due 
honor.  He  was  about  to  land  when  the  public  procurator  or 
attorney  called  to  him  with  a  loud  voice,  warning  him  not 
to  disembark,  but  advising  him  to  return  with  all  speed  to 
his  government  at  Nombre  de  Dios. 

Nicuesa  remained  for  a  moment  as  if  thunderstruck  by  so 
unlooked-for  a  salutation.  When  he  recovered  his  self-pos- 
session he  reminded  them  that  he  had  come  at  their  own  re- 
quest; he  entreated,  therefore,  that  he  might  be  allowed  to 
land  and  have  an  explanation,  after  which  he  would  be  ready 
to  act  as  they  thought  proper.  His  entreaties  were  vain; 
they  only  provoked  insolent  replies,  and  threats  of  violence 
should  he  venture  to  put  foot  on  shore.  Night  coming  on, 
therefore,  he  was  obliged  to  stand  out  to  sea,  but  returned 
the  next  morning,  hoping  to  find  this  capricious  people  in  a 
different  mood. 

There  did,  indeed,  appear  to  be  a  favorable  change,  for 
he  was  now  invited  to  land.  It  was  a  mere  stratagem  to  get 
him  in  their  power,  for  no  sooner  did  he  set  foot  on  shore 
than  the  multitude  rushed  f orwara  to  seize  him.  Among  his 


U/orKs  of  U/asl?fo$tor? 

many  bodily  endowments,  Nicuesa  was  noted  for  swiftness 
of  foot.  He  now  trusted  to  it  for  safety,  and,  throwing  off 
the  dignity  of  governor,  fled  for  his  life  along  the  shore,  pur- 
sued by  the  rabble.  He  soon  distanced  his  pursuers  and  took 
refuge  in  the  woods. 

Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  who  was  himself  a  man  of  birth, 
seeing  this  high-bred  cavalier  reduced  to  such  extremity,  and 
at  the  mercy  of  a  violent  rabble,  repented  of  what  he  had 
done.  He  had  not  anticipated  such  popular  fury,  and  en- 
deavored, though  too  late,  to  allay  the  tempest  he  had  raised. 
He  succeeded  in  preventing  the  people  from  pursuing  Nicuesa 
into  the  forest,  and  then  endeavored  to  mollify  the  vindictive 
rage  of  his  fellow  alcalde,  Zamudio,  whose  hostility  was  quick- 
ened  by  the  dread  of  losing  his  office,  should  the  new  gov- 
ernor be  received;  and  who  was  supported  in  his  boisterous* 
conduct  by  the  natural  love  of  the  multitude  for  what  are 
called  "strong  measures."  Nicuesa  now  held  a  parley  with 
the  populace,  through  the  mediation  of  Vasco  Nunez.  He 
begged  that,  if  they  would  not  acknowledge  him  as  governor, 
they  would  at  least  admit  him  as  a  companion.  This  they 
refused,  saying  that  if  they  admitted  him  in  one  capacity, 
he  would  end  by  attaining  to  the  other.  He  then  implored 
that,  if  he  could  be  admitted  on  no  other  terms,  they  would 
treat  him  as  a  prisoner,  and  put  him  in  irons,  for  he  would 
rather  die  among  them  than  return  to  Nombre  de  Dios,  to 
perish  of  famine  or  by  the  arrows  of  the  Indians. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Vasco  Nunez  exerted  his  eloquence  to 
obtain  some  grace  for  this  unhappy  cavalier.  His  voice  was 
drowned  by  the  vociferations  of  the  multitude.  Among  these 
was  a  noisy  swaggering  fellow  named  Francisco  Benitez,  a 
great  talker  and  jester,  who  took  a  vulgar  triumph  in  the  dis- 
tresses of  a  cavalier,  and  answered  every  plea  in  his  behalf 
with  scoffs  and  jeers.  He  was  an  adherent  of  the  alcalde 
Zamudio,  and  under  his  patronage  felt  emboldened  to  bluster. 
His  voice  was  ever  uppermost  in  the  general  clamor,  until, 
to  the  expostulations  of  Vasco  Nunez,  he  replied  by  merely 
bawling  with  great  vociferation,  "No,  no,  nor — we  will  re- 


Sparest?  Voyages  of  Disoouery  427 

ceive  no  such  a  fellow  among  us  as  Nicuesa!"  The  patience 
of  Vasco  Nunez  was  exhausted ;  he  availed  himself  of  his 
authority  as  alcalde,  and  suddenly,  before  his  fellow  magis- 
trate could  interfere,  ordered  the  brawling  ruffian  to  be  re- 
warded with  a  hundred  lashes,  which  were  taled  out  roundly 
to  him  upon  the  shoulders.* 

Seeing  that  the  fury  of  the  populace  was  not  to  be  paci« 
fied,  he  sent  word  to  Nicuesa  to  retire  to  his  brigantine,  and 
not  to  venture  on  shore  until  advised  by  him  to  do  so.  The 
counsel  was  fruitless.  Nicuesa,  above  deceit  himself,  sus- 
pected it  not  in  others.  He  retired  to  his  brigantine,  it  is 
true,  but  suffered  himself  to  be  inveigled  on  shore  by  a  depu- 
tation professing  to  come  on  the  part  of  the  public,  with  offers 
to  reinstate  him  as  governor.  He  had  scarcely  landed  when 
he  was  set  upon  by  an  armed  band,  headed  by  the  base- 
minded  Zamudio,  who  seized  him  and  compelled  him,  by 
menaces  of  death,  to  swear  that  he  would  immediately  de- 
part, and  make  no  delay  in  any  place  until  he  had  presented 
himself  before  the  king  and  council  in  Castile. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Nicuesa  reminded  them  that  he  was 
governor  of  that  territory  and  representative  of  the  king,  and 
that  they  were  guilty  of  treason  in  thus  opposing  him ;  it 
was  in  vain  that  he  appealed  to  their  humanity,  or  protested 
before  God  against  their  cruelty  and  persecution.  The  peo- 
ple were  in  that  state  of  tumult  when  they  are  apt  to  add 
cruelty  to  injustice.  Not  content  with  expelling  the  dis- 
carded governor  from  their  shores,  they  allotted  him  the 
worst  vessel  in  the  harbor;  an  old  crazy  brigantine  totally 
unfit  to  encounter  the  perils  and  labors  of  the  sea. 

Seventeen  followers  embarked  with  him ;  some  being  of 
his  household  and  attached  to  his  person;  the  rest  were  vol- 
unteers who  accompanied  him  out  of  respect  and  sympathy. 
The  frail  bark  set  sail  on  the  first  of  March,  1511,  and  steered 
across  the  Caribbean  Sea  for  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  but 
was  never  seen  or  heard  of  more ! 

*  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  1.  ii.,  c.  68. 


U/or^s  of  U7a8l?ii7$top 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  penetrate  the  mys- 
tery that  covers  the  fate  of  the  brigantine  and  its  crew.  A 
rumor  prevailed  some  years  afterward  that  several  Span- 
iards, wandering  along  the  shore  of  Cuba,  found  the  follow- 
ing inscription  carved  on  a  tree: 

"Aqui  fenecio  el  desdicado  Nicuesa." 
(Here  perished  the  unfortunate  Nicuesa.) 

Hence  it  was  inferred  that  he  and  his  followers  had  landed 
there,  and  been  massacred  by  the  Indians.  Las  Casas,  how- 
ever, discredits  this  story.  He  accompanied  the  first  Span- 
iards who  took  possession  of  Cuba,  and  heard  nothing  of  the 
fact,  as  he  most  probably  would  have  done  had  it  really  oc- 
curred. He  imagines,  rather,  that  the  crazy  bark  was  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  storms  and  currents  of  the  Caribbean  Sea, 
or  that  the  crew  perished  with  hunger  and  thirst,  having 
been  but  scantily  supplied  with  provisions.  The  good  old 
bishop  adds,  with  the  superstitious  feeling  prevalent  in  that 
age,  that,  a  short  time  before  Nicuesa  sailed  from  Spain  on 
his  expedition,  an  astrologer  warned  him  not  to  depart  on 
the  day  he  had  appointed,  or  under  a  certain  sign ;  the  cava- 
lier replied,  however,  that  he  had  less  confidence  in  the  stars 
than  in  God  who  made  them.  "I  recollect,  moreover,  "adds 
Las  Casas,  "that  about  this  time  a  comet  was  seen  over  this 
island  of  Hispaniola,  which,  if  I  do  not  forget,  was  in  the 
shape  of  a  sword ;  and  it  was  said  that  a  monk  warned  sev- 
eral of  those  about  to  embark  with  Nicuesa  to  avoid  that 
captain,  for  the  heavens  foretold  he  was  destined  to  be  lost. 
The  same,  however,"  he  concludes,  "might  be  said  of  Alonzo 
de  Ojeda,  who  sailed  at  the  same  time,  yet  returned  to  San 
Domingo  and  died  in  his  bed."  * 


*Las  Casas,  ut  sup.,  c.  68 


Spanish)  l/oya^es  of  Disoouery 


VASCO    NUNEZ   DE   BALBOA 

DISCOVERER     OF    THE    PACIFIC    OCEAN 


CHAPTER    ONE 

FACTIONS  AT  DARIEN— VASCO   NUNEZ  ELECTED   TO  THE 
COMMAND 

WE  have  traced  the  disastrous  fortunes  of  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda  and  Diego  de  Nicuesa;  we  have  now  to  record  the 
story  of  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  an  adventurer  equally  dar- 
ing, far  more  renowned  and  not  less  unfortunate,  who,  in  a 
manner,  rose  upon  their  ruins. 

When  the  bark  disappeared  from  view  which  bore  the  ill- 
starred  Nicuesa  from  the  shores  of  Darien,  the  community 
relapsed  into  factions  as  to  who  should  have  the  rule.  The 
Bachelor  Enciso  insisted  upon  his  claims  as  paramount,  but 
he  met  with  a  powerful  opponent  in  Vasco  Nunez,  who  had 
become  a  great  favorite  with  the  people,  from  his  frank  and 
fearless  character,  and  his  winning  affability.  In  fact,  he 
was  peculiarly  calculated  to  manage  the  fiery  and  fiactious, 
yet  generous  and  susceptible  nature  of  his  countrymen;  for 
the  Spaniards,  though  proud  and  resentful,  and  impatient  of 
indignity  or  restraint,  are  easily  dazzled  by  valor,  and  won 
by  courtesy  and  kindness.  Vasco  Nunez  had  the  external 
requisites  also  to  captivate  the  multitude.  He  was  now 
about  thirty-five  years  of  age;  tall,  well  formed,  and  vigor- 
ous, with  reddish  hair,  and  an  open  prepossessing  counte- 
nance. His  office  of  alcalde,  while  it  clothed  him  with  influ- 
ence and  importance,  tempered  those  irregular  and  dissolute 
habits  he  might  have  indulged  while  a  mere  soldier  of  fort- 
une ;  and  his  superior  talent  soon  gave  him  a  complete  ascend- 


430  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii}$toi>  Irufo<? 

ency  over  his  oflBcial  colleague  Zamudio.  He  was  thus  en- 
abled to  set  on  foot  a  vigorous  opposition  to  Enciso.  Still  he 
proceeded  according  to  the  forms  of  law,  and  summoned  the 
Bachelor  to  trial,  on  the  charge  of  usurping  the  powers  of 
alcalde  mayor,  on  the  mere  appointment  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda, 
whose  jurisdiction  did  not  extend  to  this  province. 

Enciso  was  an  able  lawyer,  and  pleaded  his  cause  skill- 
fully; but  his  claims  were,  in  fact,  fallacious,  and,  had  they 
not  been  so,  he  had  to  deal  with  men  who  cared  little  for  law, 
who  had  been  irritated  by  his  legal  exactions,  and  who  were 
disposed  to  be  governed  by  a  man  of  the  sword  rather  than 
of  the  robe.  He  was  readily  found  guilty,  therefore,  and 
thrown  into  prison,  and  all  his  property  was  confiscated.  This 
was  a  violent  verdict,  and  rashly  executed ;  but  justice  seemed 
to  grow  fierce  and  wild  when  transplanted  to  the  wilderness 
of  the  New  World.  Still  there  is  no  place  where  wrong  can 
be  committed  with  impunity ;  the  oppression  of  the  Bachelor 
Enciso,  though  exercised  under  the  forms  of  law,  and  in  a 
region  remote  from  the  pale  of  civilized  life,  redounded  to 
the  eventual  injury  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  contributed  to  blast 
the  fruits  of  that  ambition  it  was  intended  to  promote. 

The  fortunes  of  the  enterprising  Bachelor  had  indeed  run 
strangely  counter  to  the  prospects  with  which  he  had  em- 
barked at  San  Domingo ;  he  had  become  a  culprit  at  the  bar 
Instead  of  a  judge  upon  the  bench;  and  now  was  left  to 
ruminate  in  a  prison  on  the  failure  of  his  late  attempt  at  gen- 
eral command.  His  friends,  however,  interceded  warmly  in 
his  behalf,  and  at  length  obtained  his  release  from  confine- 
ment, and  permission  for  him  to  return  to  Spain.  Vasco 
Nunez  foresaw  that  the  lawyer  would  be  apt  to  .plead  his 
cause  more  effectually  at  the  court  of  Castile  than  he  had 
done  before  the  partial  and  prejudiced  tribunal  of  Darien. 
He  prevailed  upon  his  fellow  alcalde  Zamudio,  therefore, 
who  was  implicated  with  him  in  the  late  transactions,  to  re- 
turn to  Spain  in  the  same  vessel  with  the  Bachelor,  so  as  to 
be  on  the  spot  to  answer  his  charges,  and  to  give  a  favorable 
report  of  the  case.  He  was  also  instructed  to  set  forth  the 


Sparjisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  431 

services  of  Vasco  Nunez,  both  in  guiding  the  colonists  to 
this  place,  and  in  managing  the  affairs  of  the  settlement; 
and  to  dwell  with  emphasis  on  the  symptoms  of  great  riches 
in  the  surrounding  country. 

The  Bachelor  and  the  alcalde  embarked  in  a  small  cara- 
vel ;  and,  as  it  was  to  touch  at  Hispaniola,  Vasco  Nunez  sent 
his  confidential  friend,  the  regidor  Valdivia,  to  that  island 
to  obtain  provisions  and  recruits.  He  secretly  put  into  his 
hands  a  round  sum  of  gold  as  a  present  to  Miguel  de  Pasa- 
monte,  the  royal  treasurer  of  Hispaniola,  whom  he  knew  to 
have  great  credit  with  the  king,  and  to  be  invested  with  ex- 
tensive powers,  craving  at  the  same  time  his  protection  in 
the  New  "World  and  his  influence  at  court. 

Having  taken  these  shrewd  precautions,  Vasco  Nunez  saw 
the  caravel  depart  without  dismay,  though  bearing  to  Spain 
his  most  dangerous  enemy;  he  consoled  himself,  moreover, 
with  the  reflection  that  it  likewise  bore  off  his  fellow  alcalde, 
Zamudio,  and  thus  left  him  in  sole  command  of  the  colony. 


CHAPTER   TWO 

EXPEDITION   TO   COYBA — VASCO   NUNEZ  RECEIVES  THE 
DAUGHTER  OP  A  CACIQUE   AS   HOSTAGE 

VASCO  NUNEZ  now  exerted  himself  to  prove  his  capacity 
for  the  government  to  which  he  had  aspired ;  and  as  he  knew 
that  no  proof  was  more  convincing  to  King  Ferdinand  than 
ample  remittances,  and  that  gold  covered  all  sins  in  the  New 
World,  his  first  object  was  to  discover  those  parts  of  th& 
country  which  most  abounded  in  the  precious  metals.  Hear- 
ing exaggerated  reports  of  the  riches  of  a  province  about 
thirty  leagues  distant,  called  Coyba,  he  sent  Francisco  Pi- 
zarro  with  six  men  to  explore  it. 

The  cacique  Zemaco,  the  native  lord  of  Darien,  who  cher- 
ished a  bitter  hostility  against  the  European  intruders,  and 


432  ttforKs  of 

hovered  with  his  warriors  about  the  settlement,  received  no- 
tice of  this  detachment  from  his  spies,  and  planted  himself  in 
ambush  to  waylay  and  destroy  it.  The  Spaniards  had  scarcely 
proceeded  three  leagues  along  the  course  of  the  river  when  a 
host  of  savages  burst  upon  them  from  the  surrounding  thick- 
ets, uttering  frightful  yells,  and  discharging  showers  of  stones 
and  arrows.  Pizarro  and  his  men,  though  sorely  bruised  and 
wounded,  rushed  into  the  thickest  of  the  foe,  slew  many, 
wounded  more,  and  put  the  rest  to  flight;  but,  fearing  an- 
other assault,  they  made  a  precipitate  retreat,  leaving  one 
of  their  companions,  Francisco  Hernan,  disabled  on  the 
field.  They  arrived  at  the  settlement  crippled  and  bleed- 
ing; but  when  Vasco  Nunez  heard  the  particulars  of  the  ac- 
tion, his  anger  was  roused  against  Pizarro,  and  he  ordered 
him,  though  wounded,  to  return  immediately  and  recover 
the  disabled  man.  "Let  it  not  be  said,  for  shame,"  said  he, 
"that  Spaniards  fled  before  savages,  and  left  a  comrade  in 
their  hands!"  Pizarro  felt  the  rebuke,  returned  to  the  scene 
of  combat,  and  brought  off  Francisco  Hernan  in  safety. 

Nothing  having  been  heard  of  Nicuesa  since  his  depart- 
ure, Vasco  Nunez  dispatched  two  brigantines  for  those  fol- 
lowers of  that  unfortunate  adventurer  who  had  remained  at 
Nombre  de  Dios.  They  were  overjoyed  at  being  rescued 
from  their  forlorn  situation,  and  conveyed  to  a  settlement 
where  there  was  some  prospect  of  comfortable  subsistence. 
The  brigantines,  in  coasting  the  shores  of  the  Isthmus,  picked 
up  two  Spaniards,  clad  in  painted  skins,  and  looking  as  wild 
as  the  native  Indians.  These  men,  to  escape  some  punish- 
ment, had  fled  from  the  ship  of  Nicuesa  about  a  year  and  a 
half  before,  and  had  taken  refuge  with  Careta,  the  cacique 
of  Coyba.  The  savage  chieftain  had  treated  them  with  hos- 
pitable kindness;  their  first  return  for  which,  now  that  they 
found  themselves  safe  among  their  countrymen,  was  to  ad- 
vise the  latter  to  invade  the  cacique  in  his  dwelling,  where 
they  assured  them  they  would  find  immense  booty.  Finding 
their  suggestion  listened  to,  one  of  them  proceeded  to  Darien, 
to  serve  as  a  guide  to  any  expedition  that  might  be  set  on 


Spai?isf?  Voyages  of  Discovery 

foot ;  the  other  returned  to  the  cacique,  to  assist  m  betraying 
him. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  elated  by  the  intelligence  received 
through  these  vagabonds  of  the  wilderness.  He  chose  a 
hundred  and  thirty  well  armed  and  resolute  men,  and  set 
off  for  Coyba,  the  dominions  of  Careta.  The  cacique  re* 
ceived  the  Spaniards  in  his  mansion  with  the  accustomed 
hospitality  of  a  savage,  setting  before  them  meat  and  drink, 
and  whatever  his  house  afforded;  but  when  Vasco  Nunez 
asked  for  a  large  supply  of  provisions  for  the  colony,  he  de- 
clared that  he  had  none  to  spare,  his  people  having  been  pre» 
vented  from  cultivating  the  soil  by  a  war  which  he  was  wag* 
ing  with  the  neighboring  cacique  of  Ponca.  The  Spanish 
traitor,  who  had  remained  to  betray  his  benefactor,  now  took 
Vasco  Nunez  aside,  and  assured  him  that  the  cacique  had  an 
abundant  hoard  of  provisions  in  secret;  he  advised  him,  how- 
ever, to  seem  to  believe  his  words,  and  to  make  a  pretended 
departure  for  Darien  with  his  troops,  but  to  return  in  the 
night  and  take  the  village  by  surprise.  Vasco  Nunez  adopted 
the  advice  of  the  traitor.  He  took  a  cordial  leave  of  Careta, 
and  set  off  for  the  settlement.  In  the  dead  of  the  night,  how- 
ever, when  the  savages  were  buried  in  deep  sleep,  Vasco 
Nunez  led  his  men  into  the  midst  of  the  village,  and,  before 
the  inhabitants  could  rouse  themselves  to  resistance,  made 
captives  of  Careta,  his  wives,  and  children,  and  many  of  his 
people.  He  discovered  also  the  hoard  of  provisions,  with 
which  he  loaded  two  brigantines,  and  returned  with  his  booty 
and  his  captives  to  Darien. 

When  the  unfortunate  cacique  beheld  his  family  in  chains, 
end  in  the  hands  of  strangers,  his  heart  was  wrung  with  de- 
bpair.  "  What  have  I  done  to  thee,"  said  he  to  Vasco  Nunez, 
"that  thou  shouldst  treat  me  thus  cruelly?  None  of  thy  peo- 
ple ever  came  to  my  land  that  were  not  fed  and  sheltered  and 
treated  with  loving-kindness.  When  thou  earnest  to  my 
dwelling,  did  I  meet  thee  with  a  javelin  in  my  hand?  Did 
I  not  set  meat  and  drink  before  thee  and  welcome  thee  as  a 
brother?  Set  me  free,  therefore,  with  my  family  and  people, 

*  *  *  S  VOL.  V 


of 

and  we  will  remain  thy  friends.  "We  will  supply  thee  with 
provisions,  and  reveal  to  thee  the  riches  of  the  land.  Dost 
thou  doubt  my  faith?  Behold  my  daughter,  I  give  her  to 
thee  as  a  pledge  of  friendship.  Take  her  for  thy  wife,  and 
be  assured  of  the  fidelity  of  her  family  and  her  people!" 

Vasco  Nunez  felt  the  force  of  these  words  and  knew  the 
importance  of  forming  a  strong  alliance  among  the  natives. 
The  captive  maid,  also,  as  she  stood  trembling  and  dejected 
before  him,  found  great  favor  in  his  eyes,  for  she  was  young 
and  beautiful.  He  granted,  therefore,  the  prayer  of  the 
cacique,  and  accepted  his  daughter,  engaging,  moreover,  to 
aid  the  father  against  his  enemies,  on  condition  of  his  fur- 
nishing provisions  to  the  colony. 

Careta  remained  three  days  at  Darien,  during  which  tune 
he  was  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness.  Vasco  Nunez  took 
him  on  board  of  his  ships  and  showed  him  every  part  of  them. 
He  displayed  before  him  also  the  war-horses,  with  their  armor 
and  rich  caparisons,  and  astonished  him  with  the  thunder  of 
artillery.  Lest  he  should  be  too  much  daunted  by  these  war- 
like spectacles,  he  caused  the  musicians  to  perform  a  harmo- 
nious concert  on  their  instruments,  at  which  the  cacique  was 
lost  in  admiration.  Thus  having  impressed  him  with  a  won- 
derful idea  of  the  power  and  endowments  of  his  new  allies, 
he  loaded  him  with  presents  and  permitted  him  to  depart.* 

Careta  returned  joyfully  to  his  territories,  and  his  daugh- 
ter remained  with  Vasco  Nunez,  willingly,  for  his  sake, 
giving  up  her  family  and  native  home.  They  were  never 
married,  but  she  considered  herself  his  wife,  as  she  really 
was,  according  to  the  usages  of  her  own  country,  and  he 
treated  her  with  fondness,  allowing  her  gradually  to  acquire 
great  influence  over  him.  To  his  affection  for  this  damsel 
his  ultimate  ruin  is  in  some  measure  to  be  ascribed. 

*P.  Martyr,  d.  iii.  c,  ft, 


Sparest?  Voyages  of  Disoouery  435 

CHAPTER  THREE 

VA8CO    NUNEZ    HEARS    OP   A  SEA  BEYOND    THE    MOUNTAINS 

VASCO  NUNEZ  kept  his  word  with  the  father  of  his  Indian 
beauty.  Taking  with  him  eighty  men  and  his  companion- 
in-arms,  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de  Colmenares,  he  repaired  by 
sea  to  Coyba,  the  province  of  the  cacique.  Here  landing, 
he  invaded  the  territories  of  Ponca,  the  great  adversary  of 
Careta,  and  obliged  him  to  take  refuge  in  the  mountains. 
He  then  ravaged  his  lands  and  sacked  his  villages,  in  which 
he  found  considerable  booty.  Returning  to  Coyba,  where 
he  was  joyfully  entertained  by  Careta,  he  next  made  a 
friendly  visit  to  the  adjacent  province  of  Comagre,  which 
was  under  the  sway  of  a  cacique  of  the  same  name,  who  had 
3,000  fighting  men  at  his  command. 

This  province  was  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  moun- 
tain in  a  beautiful  plain  twelve  leagues  in  extent.  On  the 
approach  of  Vasco  Nunez,  the  cacique  came  forth  to  meet 
him  attended  by  seven  sons,  all  fine  young  men,  the  offspring 
of  his  various  wives.  He  was  followed  by  his  principal 
chiefs  and  warriors,  and  by  a  multitude  of  his  people.  The 
Spaniards  were  conducted  with  great  ceremony  to  the  vil- 
lage, where  quarters  were  assigned  them,  and  they  were 
furnished  with  abundance  of  provisions,  and  men  and  women 
were  appointed  to  attend  upon  them. 

The  dwelling  of  the  cacique  surpassed  any  they  had  yet 
seen  for  magnitude  and  for  the  skill  and  solidity  of  the  archi- 
tecture. It  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  paces  in  length  and 
eighty  in  breadth,  founded  upon  great  logs  surrounded  with 
a  stone  wall ;  while  the  upper  part  was  of  woodwork,  curi- 
ously interwoven  and  wrought  with  such  beauty  as  to  fill  the 
Spaniards  with  surprise  and  admiration.  It  contained  many 
commodious  apartments.  There  were  storerooms  also;  one 


of 

filled  with  bread,  with  venison,  and  other  provisions ;  another 
with  various  spirituous  beverages,  which  the  Indians  made 
from  maize,  from  a  species  of  the  palm,  and  from  roots  of 
different  kinds.  There  was  also  a  great  hall  in  a  retired  and 
secret  part  of  the  building,  wherein  Comagre  preserved  the 
bodies  of  his  ancestors  and  relatives.  These  had  been  dried 
by  the  fire  so  as  to  free  them  from  corruption,  and  afterward 
wrapped  in  mantles  of  cotton,  richly  wrought  and  interwoven 
with  pearls  and  jewels  of  gold,  and  with  certain  stones  held 
precious  by  the  natives.  They  were  then  hung  about  the 
hall  with  cords  of  cotton,  and  regarded  with  great  reverence, 
if  not  a  species  of  religious  devotion. 

Among  the  sons  of  the  cacique,  the  eldest  was  of  a  lofty 
and  generous  spirit,  and  distinguished  above  the  rest  by  his 
superior  intelligence  and  sagacity.  Perceiving,  says  old 
Peter  Martyr,  that  the  Spaniards  were  a  "wandering  kind  of 
men,  living  only  by  shifts  and  spoil,"  he  sought  to  gain  favor 
for  himself  and  family  by  gratifying  their  avarice.  He  gave 
Vasco  Nunez  and  Colmenares,  therefore,  4,000  ounces  of 
gold,  wrought  into  various  ornaments,  together  with  sixty 
slaves,  being  captives  that  he  had  taken  in  the  wars.  Vasco 
Nunez  ordered  one-fifth  of  the  gold  to  be  weighed  out  and 
set  apart  for  the  crown,  and  the  rest  to  be  shared  among  his 
followers. 

The  division  of  the  gold  took  place  in  the  porch  of  the 
dwelling  of  Comagre,  in  the  presence  of  the  youthful  cacique 
who  had  made  the  gift.  As  the  Spaniards  were  weighing  it 
out,  a  violent  quarrel  arose  among  them  as  to  the  size  and 
value  of  the  pieces  which  tell  to  their  respective  shares.  The 
high-minded  savage  was  disgusted  at  this  sordid  brawl  among 
beings  whom  he  had  regarded  with  such  reverence.  In  the 
first  impulse  of  his  disdain,  he  struck  the  scales  with  his  fist 
and  scattered  the  glittering  gold  about  the  porch.  Before 
the  Spaniards  could  recover  from  their  astonishment  at  this 
Budden  act,  he  thus  addressed  them,  "Why  should  you  quarrel 
for  such  a  trifle?  If  this  gold  is  indeed  so  precious  in  your 
eyes  that  for  it  alone  you  abandon  your  homes,  invade  the 


Spaijisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  437 

peaceful  land  of  others,  and  expose  yourselves  to  such  suffer- 
ings and  perils,  I  will  tell  you  of  a  region  where  you  may 
gratify  your  wishes  to  the  utmost.  Behold  those  lofty  moun- 
tains," continued  he,  pointing  to  the  south.  "Beyond  these 
lies  a  mighty  sea,  which  may  be  discerned  from  their  sum- 
mit. It  is  navigated  by  people  who  have  vessels  almost  as 
large  as  yours,  and  furnished,  like  them,  with  sails  and  oars. 
All  the  streams  which  flow  down  the  southern  side  of  those 
mountains  into  that  sea  abound  in  gold,  and  the  kings  who 
reign  upon  its  borders  eat  and  drink  out  of  golden  vessels. 
Gold,  in  fact,  is  as  plentiful  and  common  among  those  people 
of  the  south  as  iron  is  among  you  Spaniards." 

Struck  with  this  intelligence,  Vasco  Nunez  inquired 
eagerly  as  to  the  means  of  penetrating  to  this  sea  and  to 
the  opulent  regions  on  its  shores.  "The  task,"  replied  the 
prince,  "is  difficult  and  dangerous.  You  must  pass  through 
the  territories  of  many  powerful  caciques,  who  will  oppose 
you  with  hosts  of  warriors.  Some  parts  of  the  mountains 
are  infested  by  fierce  and  cruel  cannibals — a  wandering, 
lawless  race ;  but,  above  all,  you  will  have  to  encounter  the 
great  cacique,  Tubanama,  whose  territories  are  at  the  dis- 
tance of  six  days'  journey,  and  more  rich  in  gold  than  any 
other  province ;  this  cacique  will  be  sure  to  come  forth  against 
you  with  a  mighty  force.  To  accomplish  your  enterprise, 
therefore,  will  require  at  least  a  thousand  men  armed  like 
those  who  follow  you." 

The  youthful  cacique  gave  him  further  information  on 
the  subject,  collected  from  various  captives  whom  he  had 
taken  in  battle,  and  from  one  of  his  own  nation,  who  had 
been  for  a  long  time  in  captivity  to  Tubanama,  the  powerful 
cacique  of  the  golden  realm.  The  prince,  moreover,  offered 
to  prove  the  sincerity  of  his  words  by  accompanying  Vasco 
Nunez  in  any  expedition  to  those  -  parts  at  the  head  of  his 
father's  warriors. 

Such  was  the  first  intimation  received  by  Vasco  Nunez  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean  and  its  golden  realms,  and  it  had  an  imme- 
diate effect  upon  his  whole  character  and  conduct.  This 


438  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)$too 

hitherto  wandering  and  desperate  man  had  now  an  enterprise 
opened  to  his  ambition,  which,  if  accomplished,  would  ele- 
vate him  to  fame  and  fortune,  and  entitle  him  to  rank  among 
the  great  captains  and  discoverers  of  the  earth.  Henceforth 
the  discovery  of  the  sea  beyond  the  mountains  was  the  great 
object  of  his  thoughts,  and  his  whole  spirit  seemed  roused 
and  ennobled  by  the  idea. 

He  hastened  his  return  to  Darien,  to  make  the  necessary 
preparations  for  this  splendid  enterprise.  Before  departing 
from  the  province  of  Comagre  he  baptized  that  cacique  by 
the  name  of  Don  Carlos,  and  performed  the  same  ceremony 
upon  his  sons  and  several  of  his  subjects.  Thus  singularly 
did  avarice  and  religion  go  hand  in  hand  in  the  conduct  of 
the  Spanish  discoverers. 

Scarcely  had  Vasco  Nunez  returned  to  Darien  when  the 
regidor  Valdivia  arrived  there  from  Hispaniola,  but  with  no 
more  provisions  than  could  be  brought  in  his  small  caravel. 
These  were  soon  consumed,  and  the  general  scarcity  con- 
tinued. It  was  heightened  also  by  a  violent  tempest  of 
thunder,  lightning,  and  rain,  which  brought  such  torrents 
from  the  mountains  that  the  river  swelled  and  overflowed  its 
banks,  laying  waste  all  the  adjacent  fields  that  had  been 
cultivated.  In  this  extremity  Vasco  Nunez  dispatched  Val- 
divia a  second  time  to  Hispaniola  for  provisions.  Animated 
also  by  the  loftier  views  of  his  present  ambition,  he  wrote  to 
Don  Diego  Columbus,  who  governed  at  San  Domingo,  in- 
forming him  of  the  intelligence  he  had  received  of  a  great 
sea  and  opulent  realms  beyond  the  mountains,  and  entreating 
him  to  use  his  influence  with  the  king  that  one  thousand  men 
might  be  immediately  furnished  him  for  the  prosecution  of 
so  grand  a  discovery.  He  sent  him  also  the  amount  of  fifteen 
thousand  crowns  in  gold,  to  be  remitted  to  the  king  as  the 
royal  fifths  of  what  had  already  been  collected  under  his 
jurisdiction.  Many  of  his  followers,  also,  forwarded  sums 
of  gold  to  be  remitted  to  their  creditors  in  Spain.  In  the 
meantime,  Vasco  Nunez  prayed  the  admiral  to  yield  him 
prompt  succor  to  enable  him  to  keep  his  footing  in  the  land, 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  439 

representing  the  difficulty  he  had  in  maintaining,  with  a 
mere  handful  of  men,  so  vast  a  country  in  a  state  of  sub- 
jection. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

EXPEDITION  OP  VASCO  NUNEZ  IN  QUEST  OP  THE  GOLDEN 
TEMPLE  OF  DOBAYBA— (1512) 

WHILE  Vasco  Nunez  awaited  the  result  of  this  mission  of 
Valdivia,  his  active  disposition  prompted  him  to  undertake 
foraging  excursions  into  the  surrounding  country. 

Among  various  rumors  of  golden  realms  in  the  interior 
of  this  unknown  land  was  one  concerning  a  province  called 
Dobayba,  situated  about  forty  leagues  distant,  on  the  banks 
of  a  great  river  which  emptied  itself,  by  several  mouths,  into 
a  corner  of  the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 

This  province  derived  its  name,  according  to  Indian  tra- 
dition, from  a  mighty  female  of  the  olden  time,  the  mother 
of  the  god  who  created  the  sun  and  moon  and  all  good  things. 
She  had  power  over  the  elements,  sending  thunder  and  light- 
ning to  lay  waste  the  lands  of  those  who  displeased  her,  but 
showering  down  fertility  and  abundance  upon  the  lands  of 
her  faithful  worshipers.  Others  described  her  as  having 
been  an  Indian  princess  who  once  reigned  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Dobayba,  and  was  renowned  throughout  the  land  for 
her  supernatural  power  and  wisdom.  After  her  death,  divine 
honors  were  paid  her,  and  a  great  temple  was  erected  for  her 
worship.  Hither  the  natives  repaired  from  far  and  near,  on 
a  kind  of  pilgrimage,  bearing  offerings  of  their  most  valuable 
effects.  The  caciques  who  ruled  over  distant  territories  also 
sent  golden  tributes,  at  certain  times  of  the  year,  to  be  de- 
posited in  this  temple,  and  slaves  to  be  sacrificed  at  its  shrine. 
At  one  time,  it  was  added,  this  worship  fell  into  disuse,  the 
pilgrimages  were  discontinued,  and  the  caciques  neglected  to 
send  their  tributes ;  whereupon  the  deity,  as  a  punishment, 
inflicted  a  drought  upon  the  country.  The  springs  and  f oun- 


440  UYorKs  of  U/asl?ii}$toi} 

tains  failed,  the  rivers  were  dried  up ;  the  inhabitants  of  the 
mountains  were  obliged  to  descend  into  the  plains,  where 
they  dug  pits .  and  wells,  but  these  likewise  f ailing,  a  great 
part  of  the  nations  perished  with  thirst.  The  remainder 
hastened  to  propitiate  the  deity  by  tributes  and  sacrifices, 
and  thus  succeeded  in  averting  her  displeasure.  In  conse- 
quence of  offerings  of  the  kind,  made  for  generations  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  the  temple  was  said  to  be  filled  with 
treasure,  and  its  walls  to  be  covered  with  golden  gifts.*  In 
addition  to  the  tale  of  this  temple,  the  Indians  gave  marvel- 
ous accounts  of  the  general  wealth  of  this  province,  declaring 
that  it  abounded  with  mines  of  gold,  the  veins  of  which 
reached  from  the  dwelling  of  the  cacique  to  the  borders  of 
his  dominions. 

To  penetrate  to  this  territory,  and  above  all  to  secure  the 
treasures  of  the  golden  temple,  was  an  enterprise  suited  to 
the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  Spaniards.  Vasco  Nunez  chose 
one  hundred  and  seventy  of  his  hardiest  men  for  the  purpose. 
Embarking  them  in  two  brigantines  and  a  number  of  canoes, 
he  set  sail  from  Darien,  and,  after  standing  about  nine 
leagues  to  the  east,  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Grande  de 
San  Juan,  or  the  Great  River  of  St.  John,  also  called  the 
Atrato,  which  is  since  ascertained  to  be  one  of  the  branches 
of  the  river  Darien.  Here  he  detached  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de 
Colmenares  with  one-third  of  his  forces  to  explore  the  stream, 
while  he  himself  proceeded  with  the  residue  to  another  branch 
of  the  river,  which  he  was  told  flowed  from  the  province  of 
Dobayba,  and  which  he  ascended,  flushed  with  sanguine 
expectations,  f 


*P.  Martyr,  decad.  iii.,  c.  6.     Idem.  d.  vii.,  c.  10. 

f  la  recording  this  expedition  the  author  has  followed  the  old 
Spanish  narratives,  written  when  the  face  of  the  country  was  but  little 
known,  and  he  was  much  perplexed  to  reconcile  the  accounts  given  of 
numerous  streams  with  the  rivers  laid  down  on  modern  maps.  By  a 
clear  and  judicious  explanation,  given  in  the  recent  work  of  Don  Man- 
uel Josef  Quintana,  it  appears  that  the  different  streams  explored  by 
Vasco  Nufiez  and  Colmenares  were  all  branches  of  one  grand  river, 


Spapisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  441 

His  old  enemy  Zemaco,  the  cacique  of  Darien,  however, 
had  discovered  the  object  of  his  expedition,  and  had  taken 
measures  to  disappoint  it.  Repairing  to  the  province  of 
Dobayba,  he  had  prevailed  upon  its  cacique  to  retire  at  the 
approach  of  the  Spaniards,  leaving  his  country  deserted. 

Vasco  Nunez  found  a  village  situated  in  a  marshy  neigh- 
borhood, on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  mistook  it  for  the 
residence  of  the  cacique ;  it  was  silent  and  abandoned.  There 
was  not  an  Indian  to  be  met  with  from  whom  he  could  ob- 
tain any  information  about  the  country,  or  who  could  guide 
him  to  the  golden  temple.  He  was  disappointed,  also,  in  his 
hopes  of  obtaining  a  supply  of  provisions,  but  he  found 
weapons  of  various  kinds  hanging  in  the  deserted  houses,  and 
gathered  jewels  and  pieces  of  gold  to  the  value  of  seven 
thousand  castellanos.  Discouraged  by  the  savage  look  of 
the  surrounding  wilderness,  which  was  perplexed  by  deep 
morasses,  and  having  no  guides  to  aid  him  in  exploring  it, 
he  put  all  the  booty  he  had  collected  into  two  large  canoes, 
and  made  his  way  back  to  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  Here  he  was 
assailed  by  a  violent  tempest,  which  nearly  wrecked  his  two 
brigantines,  and  obliged  him  to  throw  a  great  part  of  their 
cargoes  overboard.  The  two  canoes  containing  the  booty 
were  swallowed  up  by  the  raging  sea,  and  all  their  crews 
perished. 

Thus  baffled  and  tempest-tossed,  Vasco  Nunez  at  length 
succeeded  hi  getting  into  what  was  termed  the  Grand  River, 
which  he  ascended,  and  rejoined  Colmenares  and  his  detach- 
ment. They  now  extended  their  excursions  up  a  stream 
which  emptied  into  the  Grand  River,  and  which,  from  the 
dark  hue  of  its  waters,  they  called  Rio  Negro,  or  the  Black 
River.  They  also  explored  certain  other  tributary  streams 

which,  descending  from  the  mountains  of  the  interior,  winds  about  in 
crystal  streams  among  the  plains  and  morasses  bordering  the  bottom 
of  the  great  gulf  of  Darien,  and  discharges  itself  by  various  mouths  into 
the  gulf.  In  fact,  the  stream  which  ran  by  the  infant  city  of  Santa  Maria 
de  la  Antigua  was  but  one  of  its  branches,  a  fact  entirely  unknown  to 
Vasco  Nufiez  and  his  companions. 


U/ort^g  of 

branching  from  it,  though  not  without  occasional  skirmishes 
with  the  natives. 

Ascending  one  of  these  minor  rivers  with  a  part  of  his 
men,  Vasco  Nunez  came  to  the  territories  of  a  cacique  named 
Abibeyba,  who  reigned  over  a  region  of  marshes  and  shallow 
lakes.  The  habitations  of  the  natives  were  built  amid  the 
branches  of  immense  and  lofty  trees.  They  were  large 
enough  to  contain  whole  family  connections,  and  were  con- 
structed partly  of  wood,  partly  of  a  kind  of  wicker  work, 
combining  strength  and  pliability,  and  yielding  uninjured  to 
the  motion  of  the  branches  when  agitated  by  the  wind.  The 
inhabitants  ascended  to  them  with  great  agility  by  light 
ladders,  formed  of  great  reeds  split  through  the  middle,  for 
the  reeds  on  this  coast  grow  to  the  thickness  of  a  man's  body. 
These  ladders  they  drew  up  after  them  at  night  or  in  case  of 
attack.  These  habitations  were  well  stocked  with  provisions; 
but  the  fermented  beverages,  of  which  these  people  had 
always  a  supply,  were  buried  in  vessels  in  the  earth  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree,  lest  they  should  be  rendered  turbid  by  the 
rocking  of  the  houses.  Close  by,  also,  were  the  canoes  with 
which  they  navigated  the  rivers  and  ponds  of  their  marshy 
country  and  followed  their  main  occupation  of  fishing. 

On  the  approach  of  the  Spaniards,  the  Indians  took 
refuge  in  their  tree-built  castles  and  drew  up  the  ladders. 
The  former  called  upon  them  to  descend  and  to  fear  nothing. 
Upon  this  the  cacique  replied,  entreating  that  he  might  not 
be  molested,  seeing  he  had  done  them  no  injury.  They 
threatened,  unless  he  came  down,  to  fell  the  trees  or  to  set 
fire  to  them  and  burn  him  and  his  wives  and  children.  The 
cacique  was  disposed  to  consent,  but  was  prevented  by  the 
entreaties  of  his  people.  Upon  this  the  Spaniards  prepared 
to  hew  down  the  trees,  but  were  assailed  by  showers  of 
stones.  They  covered  themselves,  however,  with  their  buck- 
lers, assailed  the  trees  vigorously  with  their  hatchets,  and 
soon  compelled  the  inhabitants  to  capitulate.  The  cacique 
descended  with  his  wife  and  two  of  his  children.  The  first 
demand  of  the  Spaniards  was  for  gold.  He  assured  them  he 


l/oya^es  of  Diseouery  443 

had  none;  for,  having  no  need  of  it,  he  had  never  made  it  an 
object  of  his  search.  Being  importuned,  however,  he  assured 
them  that  if  he  were  permitted  to  repair  to  certain  mountains 
at  a  distance,  he  would  in  a  few  days  return  and  bring  them 
what  they  desired.  They  permitted  him  to  depart,  retaining 
his  wife  and  children  as  hostages,  but  they  saw  no  more  of 
the  cacique.  After  remaining  here  a  few  days  and  regaling 
on  the  provisions  which  they  found  in  abundance,  they  con- 
tinued their  foraging  expeditions,  often  opposed  by  the  bold 
and  warlike  natives,  and  suffering  occasional  loss,  but  inflict- 
ing great  havoc  on  their  opposers. 

Having  thus  overrun  a  considerable  extent  of  country, 
and  no  grand  object  presenting  to  lure  him  on  to  further 
enterprise,  Vasco  Nunez  at  length  returned  to  Darien  with 
the  spoils  and  captives  he  had  taken,  leaving  Bartolome 
Hurtado  with  thirty  men  in  an  Indian  village  on  the  Rio 
Negro,  or  Black  River,  to  hold  the  country  in  subjection. 
Thus  terminated  the  first  expedition  in  quest  of  the  golden 
temple  Dobayba,  which  for  some  time  continued  to  be  a 
favorite  object  of  enterprise  among  the  adventurers  of  Darien,, 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

DISASTER  ON  THE  BLACK  RIVER— INDIAN  PLOT    AGAINST 

DARIEN 

BARTOLOME  HURTADO  being  left  to  his  own  discretion  on 
the  banks  of  the  Black  River,  occupied  himself  occasionally 
in  hunting  the  scattered  natives  who  straggled  about  the 
surrounding  forests.  Having  in  this  way  picked  up  twenty- 
four  captives,  he  put  them  on  board  of  a  large  canoe,  like  so 
much  live  stock,  to  be  transported  to  Darien  and  sold  ati 
slaves.  Twenty  of  his  followers  who  were  infirm,  either 
from  wounds  or  the  diseases  of  the  climate,  embarked  also 
in  the  canoe,  so  that  only  ten  men  remained  with  Hurtado. 

The  great  canoe,  thus  heavily  freighted,  descended  the 


444  U/or^s  of  U/asl?io$toi} 

Black  River  slowly,  between  banks  overhung  with  forests. 
Zemaco,  the  indefatigable  cacique  of  Darien,  was  on  the 
watch,  and  waylaid  the  ark  with  four  canoes  filled  with  war- 
riors armed  with  war  clubs  and  lances  hardened  in  the  fire. 
The  Spaniards,  being  sick,  could  make  but  feeble  resistance; 
some  were  massacred,  others  leaped  into  the  river  and  were 
drowned.  Two  only  escaped,  by  clinging  to  two  trunks  of 
trees  that  were  floating  down  the  river  and  covering  them- 
selves with  the  branches.  Reaching  the  shore  in  safety,  they 
returned  to  Bartolome  Hurtado  with  the  tragical  tidings  of 
the  death  of  his  followers.  Hurtado  was  so  disheartened  by 
the  news,  and  so  dismayed  at  his  own  helpless  situation  in 
the  midst  of  a  hostile  country,  that  he  resolved  to  abandon 
the  fatal  shores  of  the  Black  River  and  return  to  Darien  He 
was  quickened  in  this  resolution  by  receiving  intimation  of 
a  conspiracy  forming  among  the  natives.  The  implacable 
Zemaco  had  drawn  four  other  caciques  into  a  secret  plan  to 
assemble  their  vassals  and  make  a  sudden  attack  upon 
Darien.  Hurtado  hastened  with  the  remnant  of  his  follow- 
ers to  carry  tidings  to  the  settlement  of  this  conspiracy. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  were  alarmed  at  his  intelligence; 
others  treated  it  as  a  false  rumor  of  the  Indians,  and  no 
preparations  were  made  against  what  might  be  a  mere 
imaginary  danger. 

Fortunately  for  the  Spaniards,  among  the  female  captives 
owned  by  Vasco  Nunez  was  an  Indian  damsel  named  Fulvia, 
to  whom,  in  consequence  of  her  beauty,  he  had  shown  great 
favor,  and  who  had  become  strongly  attached  to  him.  She 
had  a  brother  among  the  warriors  of  Zemaco,  who  often 
visited  her  in  secret.  In  one  of  his  visits  he  informed  her 
that  on  a  certain  night  the  settlement  would  be  attacked  and 
every  Spaniard  destroyed.  He  charged  her,  therefore,  to 
hide  herself  that  night  in  a  certain  place  until  he  should 
come  to  her  aid,  lest  she  should  be  slain  in  the  confusion  of 
the  massacre. 

When  her  brother  was  gone  a  violent  struggle  took  place 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Indian  girl,  between  her  feeling  for  her 


Spai?isf?  Voyages  *f  Discovery  445 

family  and  her  people  and  her  affection  for  Vasco  Nunez. 
The  latter  at  length  prevailed,  and  she  revealed  all  that  had 
been  told  to  her.  Vasco  Nunez  prevailed  upon  her  to  send 
for  her  brother  under  pretense  of  aiding  her  to  escape.  Hav« 
ing  him  in  his  power,  he  extorted  from  him  all  that  he  knew 
of  the  designs  of  the  enemy.  His  confessions  showed  what 
imminent  danger  had  been  lurking  round  Vasco  Nunez  hi 
his  most  unsuspecting  moments.  The  prisoner  informed  him 
that  he  had  been  one  of  forty  Indians  sent  some  time  before 
by  the  cacique  Zemaco  to  Vasco  Nunez,  in  seeming  friend- 
ship, to  be  employed  by  him  in  cultivating  the  fields  adja- 
cent to  the  settlement.  They  had  secret  orders,  however,  to 
take  an  opportunity  when  Vasco  Nunez  should  come  forth  to 
inspect  then:  work,  to  set  upon  him  in  an  unguarded  moment 
and  destroy  him.  Fortunately,  Vasco  Nunez  always  visited 
the  fields  mounted  on  his  war  horse  and  armed  with  lance 
and  target.  The  Indians  were  therefore  so  awed  by  his  mar- 
tial appearance,  and  by  the  terrible  annual  he  bestrode,  that 
they  dared  not  attack  him. 

Foiled  hi  this  and  other  attempts  of  the  kind,  Zemaco 
resorted  to  the  conspiracy  with  the  neighboring  caciques  with 
which  the  settlement  was  menaced. 

Five  caciques  had  joined  in  the  confederacy;  they  had 
prepared  a  hundred  canoes,  had  amassed  provisions  for  an 
army,  and  had  concerted  to  assemble  five  thousand  picked 
warriors  at  a  certain  time  and  place;  with  these  they  were 
to  make  an  attack  on  the  settlement  by  land  and  water  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  and  to  slaughter  every  Spaniard. 

Having  learned  where  the  confederate  chiefs  were  to  be 
found,  and  where  they  had  deposited  their  provisions,  Vasco 
Nunez  chose  seventy  of  his  best  men,  well-armed,  and  made 
a  circuit  by  land,  while  Colmenares,  with  sixty  men,  sallied 
forth  secretly  in  four  canoes  guided  by  the  Indian  prisoner. 
In  this  way  they  surprised  the  general  of  the  Indian  army 
and  several  of  the  principal  confederates,  and  got  possession 
of  all  their  provisions,  though  they  failed  to  capture  the 
formidable  Zemaco.  The  Indian  general  was  shot  to  death 


of 

with  arrows,  and  the  leaders  of  the  conspiracy  were  hanged 
In  presence  of  their  captive  followers.  The  defeat  of  this 
deep-laid  plan  and  the  punishment  of  its  devisers  spread 
terror  throughout  the  neighboring  provinces  and  prevented 
any  further  attempt  at  hostilities.  Vasco  Nunez,  however, 
caused  a  strong  fortress  of  wood  to  be  immediately  erected 
to  guard  against  any  future  assaults  of  the  savages. 


CHAPTER  SIX 

FURTHER  FACTIONS  IN  THE  COLONY  —  ARROGANCE  OF  ALONZO 
PEREZ  AND  THE  BACHELOR  CORRAL— 


A  CONSIDERABLE  time  had  now  elapsed  since  the  departure 
of  Valdivia  for  Hispaniola,  yet  no  tidings  had  been  received 
from  him.  Many  began  to  fear  that  some  disaster  had  be- 
fallen him;  while  others  insinuated  that  it  was  possible  both 
he  and  Zamudio  might  have  neglected  the  objects  of  their 
mission,  and,  having  appropriated  to  their  own  use  the  gold 
with  which  they  had  been  intrusted,  might  have  abandoned 
the  colony  to  its  fate. 

Vasco  Nunez  himself  was  harassed  by  these  surmises, 
and  by  the  dread  lest  the  Bachelor  Enciso  should  succeed  in 
prejudicing  the  mind  of  his  sovereign  against  him.  Im- 
patient of  this  state  of  anxious  suspense,  he  determined  to 
repair  to  Spain  to  communicate  in  person  all  that  he  had 
heard  concerning  the  Southern  Sea,  and  to  ask  for  the  troops 
necessary  for  its  discovery. 

Every  one,  however,  both  friend  and  foe,  exclaimed 
against  such  a  measure,  representing  his  presence  as  indis- 
pensable to  the  safety  of  the  colony,  from  his  great  talents  as 
a  commander  and  the  fear  entertained  of  him  by  the  Indians. 

After  much  debate  and  contention,  it  was  at  length  agreed 
that  Juan  de  Cayzedo  and  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de  Colmenares 
ehould  go  in  his  place,  instructed  to  make  all  necessary 
representations  to  the  king.  Letters  were  written  also  con- 


Spapisf?  Uoy*^e8  of  Discovery  447 

taining  the  most  extravagant  accounts  of  the  riches  of  the 
country,  partly  dictated  by  the  sanguine  hopes  of  the  writers, 
and  partly  by  the  fables  of  the  natives.  The  rumored  wealth 
of  the  province  of  Dobayba  and  the  treasures  of  its  golden 
temple  were  not  forgotten ;  and  an  Indian  was  taken  to  Spain 
by  the  commissioners,  a  native  of  the  province  of  Zenu,  where 
gold  was  said  to  be  gathered  in  nets  stretched  across  the 
mountain  streams.  To  give  more  weight  to  all  these  stories, 
every  one  contributed  some  portion  of  gold  from  his  private 
hoard  to  be  presented  to  the  king  in  addition  to  the  amount 
arising  from  his  fifths. 

But  little  time  elapsed  after  the  departure  of  the  commis- 
sioners when  new  dissensions  broke  out  in  the  colony.  It 
was  hardly  to  be  expected  that  a  fortuitous  assemblage  of 
adventurers  could  remain  long  tranquil  during  a  time  of 
suffering  under  rulers  of  questionable  authority.  Vasco 
Nunez,  it  is  true,  had  risen  by  his  courage  and  abilities ;  but 
he  had  risen  from  among  their  ranks;  he  was,  in  a  manner, 
of  their  own  creation ;  and  they  had  not  become  sufficiently 
accustomed  to  him  as  a  governor  to  forget  that  he  was  recently 
but  a  mere  soldier  of  fortune  and  an  absconding  debtor. 

Their  factious  discontent,  however,  was  directed  at  first 
against  a  favorite  of  Vasco  Nunez,  rather  than  against  him- 
self. He  had  invested  Bartolome  Hurtado,  the  commander 
of  the  Black  River,  with  considerable  authority  in  the  colony, 
and  the  latter  gave  great  offense  by  his  oppressive  conduct. 
Hurtado  had  particularly  aggrieved  by  his  arrogance  one 
Alonzo  Perez  de  la  Rua,  a  touchy  cavalier,  jealous  of  his 
honor,  who  seems  to  have  peculiarly  possessed  the  sensitive 
punctilio  of  a  Spaniard.  Firing  at  some  indignity,  whether 
real  or  fancied,  Alonzo  Perez  threw  himself  into  the  ranks  of 
the  disaffected,  and  was  immediately  chosen  as  their  leader. 
Thus  backed  by  a  faction,  he  clamored  loudly  for  the  punish- 
ment of  Hurtado;  and,  finding  his  demands  unattended  to, 
threw  out  threats  of  deposing  Vasco  Nunez.  The  latter  no 
sooner  heard  of  these  menaces,  than,  with  his  usual  spirit  and 
promptness,  he  seized  upon  the  testy  Alonzo  Perez  and  threw 


U/orl^s  of 

him  in  prison,  to  digest  his  indignities  and  cool  his  passions  at 
leisure. 

The  conspirators  flew  to  arms  to  liberate  their  leader. 
The  friends  of  Vasco  Nunez  were  equally  on  the  alert.  The 
two  parties  drew  out  in  battle  array  in  the  public  square,  and 
a  sanguinary  conflict  was  on  the  point  of  taking  place.  For- 
tunately there  were  some  cool  heads  left  in  the  colony. 
These  interfered  at  the  critical  moment,  representing  to  the 
angry  adversaries  that  if  they  fought  among  themselves,  and 
diminished  their  already  scanty  numbers,  even  the  conquerors 
must  eventually  fall  a  prey  to  the  Indians. 

Their  remonstrances  had  effect.  A  parley  ensued,  and, 
after  much  noisy  debate,  a  kind  of  compromise  was  made. 
Alonzo  Perez  was  liberated,  and  the  mutineers  dispersed 
quietly  to  their  homes.  The  next  day,  however,  they  were 
again  in  arms,  and  seized  upon  Bartolome  Hurtado;  but 
after  a  little  while  were  prevailed  upon  to  set  him  free. 
Their  factious  views  seemed  turned  to  a  higher  object.  They 
broke  forth  into  loud  murmurs  against  Vasco  Nunez,  com- 
plaining that  he  had  not  made  a  fair  division  of  the  gold  and 
slaves  taken  in  the  late  expeditions,  and  threatening  to 
arrest  him  and  bring  him  to  account.  Above  all,  they 
clamored  for  an  immediate  distribution  of  ten  thousand 
castellanos  in  gold,  which  yet  remained  unshared. 

Yasco  Nunez  understood  too  well  the  riotous  nature  of  the 
people  under  him,  and  his  own  precarious  hold  on  their  obe- 
dience, to  attempt  to  cope  with  them  in  this  moment  of  tur- 
bulence. He  shrewdly  determined,  therefore,  to  withdraw 
from  the  sight  of  the  multitude,  and  to  leave  them  to  divide 
the  spoil  among  themselves,  trusting  to. their  own  strife  for 
his  security.  That  very  night  he  sallied  forth  into  the  coun- 
try, under  pretense  of  going  on  a  hunting  expedition. 

The  next  morning  the  mutineers  found  themselves  in 
possession  of  the  field.  Alonzo  Perez,  the  pragmatical  ring- 
leader, immediately  assumed  the  command,  seconded  by  the 
Bachelor  Corral.  Their  first  measure  was  to  seize  upon  the 
ten  thousand  castellanos,  and  to  divide  them  among  the 


Spatial?  Voyages  of  Discovery  449 

multitude,  by  way  of  securing  their  own  popularity.  The 
event  proved  the  sagacity  and  forethought  of  Vasco  Nunez. 
Scarcely  had  these  hot-headed  intermeddlers  entered  upon 
the  partition  of  the  gold  than  a  furious  strife  arose.  Every 
one  was  dissatisfied  with  his  share,  considering  his  merits 
entitled  to  peculiar  recompense.  Every  attempt  to  appease 
the  rabble  only  augmented  their  violence,  and  in  their  rage 
they  swore  that  Vasco  Nunez  had  always  shown  more  judg- 
ment and  discrimination  in  his  distributions  to  men  of  merit. 

The  adherents  of  the  latter  now  ventured  to  lift  up  their 
voices.  "Vasco  Nunez,"  said  they,  "won  the  gold  by  his 
enterprise  and  valor,  and  would  have  shared  it  with  the 
brave  and  the  deserving ;  but  these  men  have  seized  upon  it 
by  factious  means,  and  would  squander  it  upon  their  min- 
ions." The  multitude,  who,  in  fact,  admired  the  soldier-like 
qualities  of  Vasco  Nunez,  displayed  one  of  the  customary 
reverses  of  popular  feeling.  The  touchy  Alonzo  Perez,  his 
coadjutor  the  Bachelor  Corral,  and  several  other  of  the  ring- 
leaders, were  seized,  thrown  in  irons,  and  confined  hi  the 
fortress;  and  Vasco  Nunez  was  recalled  with  loud  acclama- 
tions to  the  settlement. 

How  long  this  pseudo  commander  might  have  been  able 
to  manage  the  unsteady  populace  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but 
just  at  this  juncture  two  ships  arrived  from  Hispaniola, 
freighted  with  supplies,  and  bringing  a  re-enforcement  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  men.  They  brought  also  a  commission  to 
Vasco  Nunez,  signed  by  Miguel  de  Pasamonte,  the  royal 
treasurer  of  Hispaniola,  to  whom  he  had  sent  a  private 
present  of  gold,  constituting  him  captain-general  of  the 
colony.  It  is  doubtful  whether  Pasamonte  possessed  the 
power  to  confer  such  a  commission,  though  it  is  affirmed 
that  the  king  had  clothed  him  with  it,  as  a  kind  of  check 
upon  the  authority  of  the  admiral  Don  Diego  Columbus,  disa 
Governor  of  Hispaniola,  of  whose  extensive  sway  in  the  No1^ 
World  the  monarch  was  secretly  jealous.  At  any  rate,  the 
treasurer  appears  to  have  acted  in  full  confidence  of  the  ulti- 
mate approbation  of  his  sovereign. 


U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ip$toi) 

Vasco  Nunez  was  rejoiced  at  receiving  a  commission 
which  clothed  him  with  at  least  the  semblance  of  royal  sanc- 
tion. Feeling  more  assured  in  his  situation,  and  being 
naturally  of  a  generous  and  forgiving  temper,  he  was  easily 
prevailed  upon,  in  his  moment  of  exultation,  to  release  and 
pardon  Alonzo  Perez,  the  Bachelor  Corral,  and  the  other 
ringleaders  of  the  late  commotions,  and  for  a  time  the  feuds 
and  factions  of  this  petty  community  were  lulled  to  repose. 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 

VASCO  NUNEZ  DETERMINES   TO   SEEK   THE   SEA  BEYOND   THE 
MOUNTAINS—  (1513) 

THE  temporary  triumph  of  Vasco  Nunez  was  soon  over- 
cast by  tidings  received  from  Spain.  His  late  colleague,  the 
Alcalde  Zamudio,  wrote  him  word  that  the  Bachelor  Enciso 
had  carried  his  complaints  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  rousing  the  indignation  of  the  king,  and  had  ob- 
tained a  sentence  in  his  favor,  condemning  Vasco  Nunez  in 
costs  and  damages.  Zamudio  informed  him,  in  addition,  that 
he  would  be  immediately  summoned  to  repair  to  Spain,  and 
answer  in  person  the  criminal  charges  advanced  against  him 
on  account  of  the  harsh  treatment  and  probable  death  of  the 
unfortunate  Nicuesa. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  at  first  stunned  by  this  intelligence, 
which  seemed  at  one  blow  to  annihilate  all  his  hopes  and 
fortunes.  He  was  a  man,  however,  of  prompt  decision  and 
intrepid  spirit.  The  information  received  from  Spain  was 
private  and  informal,  no  order  had  yet  arrived  from  the  king, 
he  was  still  master  of  his  actions,  and  had  control  over  the 
colony.  One  brilliant  achievement  might  atone  for  all  the 
past,  and  fix  him  in  the  favor  of  the  monarch.  Such  an 
achievement  was  within  his  reach— the  discovery  of  the 
Southern  Sea.  It  is  true,  a  thousand  soldiers  had  been 
required  for  the  expedition,  but  were  he  *o  wait  for  their 


Spaijisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  451 

arrival  from  Spain  his  day  of  grace  would  be  past.  It  was 
a  desperate  thing  to  undertake  the  task  with  the  handful  of 
men  at  his  command,  but  the  circumstances  of  the  case  were 
desperate.  Fame,  fortune,  life  itself,  depended  upon  the 
successful  and  the  prompt  execution  of  the  enterprise.  To 
linger  was  to  be  lost. 

Vasco  Nunez  looked  round  upon  the  crew  of  daring  and 
reckless  adventurers  that  formed  the  colony,  and  chose  one 
hundred  and  ninety  of  the  most  resolute  and  vigorous,  and 
of  those  most  devoted  to  his  person.  These  he  armed  with 
swords,  targets,  crossbows,  and  arquebusses.  He  did  not 
conceal  from  them  the  peril  of  the  enterprise  into  which  he 
was  about  to  lead  them ;  but  the  spirit  of  these  Spanish  ad- 
venturers was  always  roused  by  the  idea  of  perilous  and 
extravagant  exploit.  To  aid  his  slender  forces,  he  took  with 
him  a  number  of  bloodhounds,  which  had  been  found  to  be 
terrific  allies  in  Indian  warfare. 

The  Spanish  writers  make  particular  mention  of  one  of 
those  animals,  named  Leoncico,  which  was  a  constant  com- 
panion, and,  as  it  were,  bodyguard  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and 
describe  him  as  minutely  as  they  would  a  favorite  warrior. 
He  was  of  a  middle  size,  but  immensely  strong;  of  a  dull 
yellow  or  reddish  color,  with  a  black  muzzle,  and  his  body 
was  scarred  all  over  with  wounds  received  in  innumerable 
battles  with  the  Indians.  Vasco  Nunez  always  took  him  on 
his  expeditions,  and  sometimes  lent  him  to  others,  receiv 
ing  for  his  services  the  same  share  of  booty  allotted  to  an 
armed  man.  In  this  way  he  gained  by  him,  in  the  course  of 
his  campaigns,  upward  of  a  thousand  crowns.  The  Indians, 
it  is  said,  had  conceived  such  terror  of  this  animal  that  the 
very  sight  of  him  was  sufficient  to  put  a  host  of  them  to 
flight.* 

In  addition  to  these  forces,  Vasco  Nunez  took  with  him  a 
number  of  the  Indians  of  Darien,  whom  he  had  won  to  him 
by  kindness,  and  whose  services  were  important,  from  their 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Indies,  Part  II.  c.  3.  MS. 


452  Worlds  of  U/asl?ip<}too 

knowledge  of  the  wilderness,  and  of  the  habits  and  resources 
of  savage  life.  Such  was  the  motley  armament  that  set 
forth  from  the  little  colony  of  Darien,  under  the  guidance  of 
a  daring,  if  not  desperate  commander,  in  quest  of  the  great 
Pacific  Ocean. 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

EXPEDITION   IN   QUEST   OF   THE   SOUTHERN   SEA 

IT  was  on  the  first  of  September  that  Vasco  Nunez  em- 
barked with  his  followers  in  a  brigantine  and  nine  large 
canoes  or  pirogues,  followed  by  the  cheers  and  good  wishes 
of  those  who  remained  at  the  settlement.  Standing  to  the 
northwestward,  he  arrived  without  accident  at  Coyba,  the 
dominions  of  the  cacique  Careta,  whose  daughter  he  had 
received  as  a  pledge  of  amity.  That  Indian  beauty  had 
acquired  a  great  influence  over  Vasco  Nunez,  and  appears  to 
have  cemented  his  friendship  with  her  father  and  her  people. 
He  was  received  by  the  cacique  with  open  arms,  and  fur- 
nished with  guides  and  warriors  to  aid  him  in  his  enterprise. 

Vasco  Nunez  left  about  half  of  his  men  at  Coyba  to  guard 
the  brigantine  and  canoes,  while  he  should  penetrate  the 
wilderness  with  the  residue.  The  importance  of  his  present 
expedition,  not  merely  as  affecting  his  own  fortunes,  but  as 
it  were  unfolding  a  mighty  secret  of  nature,  seems  to  have 
impressed  itself  upon  his  spirit,  and  to  have  given  corre- 
spondent solemnity  to  his  conduct.  Before  setting  out  upon 
his  march,  he  caused  mass  to  be  performed,  and  offered  up 
prayers  to  God  for  the  success  of  his  perilous  undertaking. 

It  was  on  the  sixth  of  September  that  he  struck  off  for 
the  mountains.  The  march  was  difficult  and  toilsome  hi 
the  extreme.  The  Spaniards,  encumbered  with  the  weight 
of  their  armor  and  weapons,  and  oppressed  by  the  heat  of  a 
tropical  climate,  were  obliged  to  climb  rocky  precipices,  and 
to  struggle  through  close  and  tangled  forests.  Their  Indian 


Spapisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  453 

allies  aided  them  by  carrying  their  ammunition  and  pro- 
visions, and  by  guiding  them  to  the  most  practicable 
paths. 

On  the  eighth  of  September  they  arrived  at  the  village  of 
Ponca,  the  ancient  enemy  of  Careta.  The  village  was  life- 
less and  abandoned ;  the  cacique  and  his  people  had  fled  to 
the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains.  The  Spaniards  remained 
here  several  days  to  recruit  the  health  of  some  of  their  num- 
ber who  had  fallen  ill.  It  was  necessary  also  to  procure 
guides  acquainted  with  the  mountain  wilderness  they  were 
approaching.  The  retreat  of  Ponca  was  at  length  discov- 
ered, and  he  was  prevailed  upon,  though  reluctantly,  to 
come  to  Vasco  Nunez.  The  latter  had  a  peculiar  facility  in 
winning  the  confidence  and  friendship  of  the  natives.  The 
cacique  was  soon  so  captivated  by  his  kindness  that  he  re« 
vealed  to  him  in  secret  all  he  knew  of  the  natural  riches  of 
the  country.  He  assured  him  of  the  truth  of  what  had  been 
told  him  about  a  great  pechry  or  sea  beyond  the  mountains, 
and  gave  him  several  ornaments  ingeniously  wrought  of  fine 
gold,  which  had  been  brought  from  the  countries  upon  its 
borders.  He  told  him,  moreover,  that  when  he  had  attained 
the  summit  of  a  lofty  ridge,  to  which  he  pointed,  and  which 
seemed  to  rise  up  to  the  skies,  he  would  behold  that  sea 
spread  out  far  below  him. 

Animated  by  the  accounts,  Vasco  Nunez  procured  fresh 
guides  from  the  cacique  and  prepared  to  ascend  the  moun- 
tains. Numbers  of  his  men  having  fallen  ill  from  fatigue 
and  the  heat  of  the  climate,  he  ordered  them  to  return  slowly 
to  Coyba,  taking  with  him  none  but  such  as  were  in  robust 
and  vigorous  health, 

On  the  20th  of  September,  he  again  set  forward  through 
a  broken  rocky  country,  covered  with  a  matted  forest,  and 
intersected  by  deep  and  turbulent  streams,  many  of  which 
it  was  necessary  to  cross  upon  rafts. 

So  toilsome  was  the  journey  that  in  four  days  they  did 
not  advance  above  ten  leagues,  and  in  the  meantime  they 
suffered  excessively  from  hunger.  At  the  end  of  this  time 


134  WorKs  of  U/asl?iQ$toij  Irulr# 

they  arrived  at  the  province  of  a  warlike  cacique,  named 
Quaraqua,  who  was  at  war  with  Ponca. 

Hearing  that  a  band  of  strangers  were  entering  his  terri- 
tories, guided  by  the  subjects  of  his  inveterate  foe,  the  cacique 
took  the  field  with  a  large  number  of  warriors,  some  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows,  others  with  long  spears,  or  with 
double-handed  maces  of  palm-wood,  almost  as  heavy  and 
hard  as  iron.  Seeing  the  inconsiderable  number  of  the  Span- 
iards, they  set  upon  them  with  furious  yells,  thinking  to  over- 
come them  in  an  instant.  The  first  discharge  of  firearms, 
however,  struck  them  with  dismay.  They  thought  they 
were  contending  with  demons  who  vomited  forth  thunder  and 
lightning,  especially  when  they  saw  their  companions  fall 
bleeding  and  dead  beside  them,  without  receiving  any  ap- 
parent blow.  They  took  to  headlong  flight,  and  were  hotly 
pursued  by  the  Spaniards  and  their  bloodhounds.  Some 
were  transfixed  with  lances,  others  hewn  down  with  swords, 
and  many  were  torn  to  pieces  by  the  dogs,  so  that  Quaraqua 
and  six  hundred  of  his  warriors  were  left  dead  upon  the  field. 

A  brother  of  the  cacique  and  several  chiefs  were  taken 
prisoners.  They  were  clad  in  robes  of  white  cotton.  Either 
from  their  effeminate  dress,  or  from  the  accusations  of  their 
enemies,  the  Spaniards  were  induced  to  consider  them  guilty 
of  unnatural  crimes,  and,  in  their  abhorrence  and  disgust, 
gave  them  to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  the  bloodhounds.* 

It  is  also  affirmed  that  among  the  prisoners  were  several 
negroes,  who  had  been  slaves  to  the  cacique.  The  Spaniards, 
we  are  told,  were  informed  by  the  other  captives  that  these 
black  men  came  from  a  region  at  no  great  distance,  where 
there  was  a  people  of  that  color  with  whom  they  were  fre- 
quently at  war.  "These,"  adds  the  Spanish  writer,  "were 
the  first  negroes  ever  found  in  the  New  World,  and  I  believe 
no  others  have  since  been  discovered."  f 

•Herrera,  Hist.,  Ind.  d.  i.  1.  x.  c.  1. 

f  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  third  Decade,  makes  mention  of  these 
negroes  in  the  following  words: — "About  two  days'  journey  distant 
from  Quaraqua  is  a  region  inhabited  only  by  black  Moors,  exceeding 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  455 

After  this  sanguinary  triumph,  the  Spaniards  marched 
to  the  village  of  Quaraqua,  where  they  found  considerable 
booty  in  gold  and  jewels.  Of  this  Vasco  Nunez  reserved 
one-fifth  for  the  crown,  and  shared  the  rest  liberally  among 
his  followers.  The  village  was  at  the  foot  of  the  last  moun- 
tain that  remained  for  them  to  climb ;  several  of  the  Span- 
iards, however,  were  so  disabled  by  the  wounds  they  had 
received  in  battle,  or  so  exhausted  by  the  fatigue  and  hunger 
they  had  endured,  that  they  were  unable  to  proceed.  They 
were  obliged,  therefore,  reluctantly  to  remain  in  the  village, 
within  sight  of  the  mountain-top  that  commanded  the  long- 
sought  prospect.  Vasco  Nunez  selected  fresh  guides  from 
among  his  prisoners,  who  were  natives  of  the  province,  and 
sent  back  the  subjects  of  Ponca.  Of  the  band  of  Spaniards 
who  had  set  out  with  him  in  this  enterprise,  sixty-seven  alone 
remained  in  sufficient  health  and  spirits  for  this  last  effort. 
These  he  ordered  to  retire  early  to  repose,  that  they  might  be 
ready  to  set  off  at  the  cool  and  fresh  hour  of  daybreak,  so  as 
tc  reach  the  summit  of  the  mountain  before  the  noontide  heat. 


CHAPTER   NINE 

DISCOVERY   OP   THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN 

THE  day  had  scarcely  dawned,  when  Vasco  Nunez  and 
his  followers  set  forth  from  the  Indian  village  and  began  to 
climb  the  height.  It  was  a  severe  and  rugged  toil  for  men 
so  wayworn,  but  they  were  filled  with  new  ardor  at  the  idea 

fierce  and  cruel.  It  is  supposed  that  in  times  past  certain  black  Moors 
sailed  thither  out  of  Ethiopia  to  rob,  and  that  by  shipwreck,  or  some 
other  chance,  they  were  driven  to  these  mountains."  As  Martyr  lived 
and  wrote  at  the  time,  he  of  course  related  the  mere  rumor  of  the  day, 
which  all  subsequent  accounts  have  disproved.  The  other  historians 
who  mentioned  the  circumstance  have  probably  repeated  it  from  him. 
It  must  have  risen  from  some  misrepresentation,  and  is  not  entitled 
to  credit. 


456  U/orl^s  of 

of  the  triumphant  scene  that  was  so  soon  to  repay  them  far 
all  their  hardships. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  emerged  from  the 
thick  forests  through  which  they  had  hitherto  struggled,  and 
arrived  at  a  lofty  and  airy  region  of  the  mountain.  The 
bald  summit  alone  remained  to  be  ascended,  and  their  guides 
pointed  to  a  moderate  eminence  from  which  they  said  the 
southern  sea  was  visible. 

Upon  this  Vasco  Nunez  commanded  his  followers  to  halt, 
and  that  no  man  should  stir  from  his  place.  Then,  with  a 
palpitating  heart,  he  ascended  alone  the  bare  mountain-top. 
On  reaching  the  summit  the  long-desired  prospect  burst  upon 
his  view.  It  was  as  if  a  new  world  were  unfolded  to  him, 
separated  from  all  hitherto  known  by  this  mighty  barrier  of 
mountains.  Below  him  extended  a  vast  chaos  of  rock  and 
forest,  and  green  savannas  and  wandering  streams,  while  at 
a  distance  the  waters  of  the  promised  ocean  glittered  in  the 
morning  sun. 

At  this  glorious  prospect  Vasco  Nunez  sank  upon  his  knees, 
and  poured  out  thanks  to  God  for  being  the  first  European 
to  whom  it  was  given  to  make  that  great  discovery.  He 
then  called  his  people  to  ascend.  "Behold,  my  friends," 
said  he,  "that  glorious  sight  which  we  have  so  much  desired. 
Let  us  give  thanks  to  God  that  He  has  granted  us  this  great 
honor  and  advantage.  Let  us  pray  to  Hun  that  He  will 
guide  and  aid  us  to  conquer  the  sea  and  land  which  we  have 
discovered,  and  in  which  Christian  has  never  entered  to 
preach  the  holy  doctrine  of  the  Evangelists.  As  to  your- 
selves, be  as  you  have  hitherto  been,  faithful  and  true  to  me, 
and  by  the  favor  of  Christ  you  will  become  the  richest  Span- 
iards that  have  ever  come  to  the  Indies ;  you  will  render  the 
greatest  services  to  your  king  that  ever  vassal  rendered  to 
his  lord ;  and  you  will  have  the  eternal  glory  and  advantage 
of  all  that  is  here  discovered,  conquered,  and  converted  to 
our  holy  Catholic  faith." 

The  Spaniards  answered  this  speech  by  embracing  Vasco 
Nunez  and  promising  to  follow  him  to  death.  Among  them 


Spapisf?  Voyages  of  Discovery  457 

was  a  priest  named  Andres  de  Vara,  who  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  chanted  "Te  Deum  laudamus" — the  usual  anthem  of 
Spanish  discoverers.  The  people,  kneeling  down,  joined  in 
the  strain  with  pious  enthusiasm  and  tears  of  joy;  and  never 
did  a  more  sincere  oblation  rise  to  the  Deity  from  a  sanctified 
altar  than  from  that  wild  mountain  summit.  It  was  indeed 
one  of  the  most  sublime  discoveries  that  had  yet  been  made 
in  the  New  "World,  and  must  have  opened  a  boundless  field 
of  conjecture  to  the  wondering  Spaniards.  The  imagination 
delights  to  picture  forth  the  splendid  confusion  of  their 
thoughts.  "Was  this  the  great  Indian  Ocean,  studded  with 
precious  islands,  abounding  in  gold,  in  gems,  and  spices,  and 
bordered  by  the  gorgeous  cities  and  wealthy  marts  of  the 
East?  Or  was  it  some  lonely  sea  locked  up  in  the  embraces 
of  savage  uncultivated  continents,  and  never  traversed  by  a 
bark,  excepting  the  light  pirogue  of  the  Indian?  The  latter 
could  hardly  be  the  case,  for  the  natives  had  told  the  Span- 
iards of  golden  realms,  and  populous  and  powerful  and  lux- 
urious nations  upon  its  shores.  Perhaps  it  might  be  bordered 
by  various  people,  civilized  in  fact,  but  differing  from  Europe 
in  their  civilization ;  who  might  have  peculiar  laws  and  cus- 
toms and  arts  and  sciences ;  who  might  form,  as  it  were,  a 
world  of  their  own,  intercommuning  by  this  mighty  sea,  and 
carrying  on  commerce  between  their  own  islands  and  con- 
tinents; but  who  might  exist  in  total  ignorance  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  other  hemisphere. 

Such  may  naturally  have  been  the  ideas  suggested  by  the 
sight  of  this  unknown  ocean.  It  was  the  prevalent  belief  of 
the  Spaniards,  however,  that  they  were  the  first  Christians 
who  had  made  the  discovery.  Vasco  Nunez,  therefore,  called 
upon  all  present  to  witness  that  he  took  possession  of  that 
sea,  its  islands,  and  surrounding  lands,  hi  the  name  of  the 
sovereigns  of  Castile,  and  the  notary  of  the  expedition  made 
a  testimonial  of  the  same,  to  which  all  present,  to  the  num- 
ber of  sixty-seven  men,  signed  their  names.  He  then  caused 
a  fair  and  tall  tree  to  be  cut  down  and  wrought  into  a  cross, 
which  was  elevated  on  the  spot  from  whence  he  had  at  first 

*  *  *  T  VOL.  V. 


458  U/orKs  of  U/a8l?ii)$too 

beheld  the  sea.  A  mound  of  stones  was  likewise  piled  up  to 
serve  as  a  monument,  and  the  names  of  the  Castilian  sov- 
ereigns were  carved  on  the  neighboring  trees.  The  Indians 
beheld  all  these  ceremonials  and  rejoicings  in  silent  wonder, 
and,  while  they  aided  to  erect  the  cross  and  pile  up  the  mound 
of  stones,  marveled  exceedingly  at  the  meaning  of  these  monu- 
ments, little  thinking  that  they  marked  the  subjugation  of 
their  land. 

The  memorable  event  here  recorded  took  place  on  the  26th 
of  September,  1513;  so  that  the  Spaniards  had  been  twenty 
days  performing  the  journey  from  the  province  of  Careta  to 
the  summit  of  the  mountain,  a  distance  which  at  present,  it 
is  said,  does  not  require  more  than  six  days'  travel.  Indeed 
the  isthmus  in  this  neighborhood  is  not  more  than  eighteen 
leagues  in  breadth  in  its  widest  part,  and  in  some  places 
merely  seven ;  but  it  consists  of  a  ridge  of  extremely  high 
and  rugged  mountains.  When  the  discoverers  traversed  it, 
they  had  no  route  but  the  Indian  paths,  and  often  had  to 
force  their  way  amid  all  kinds  of  obstacles,  both  from  the 
savage  country  and  its  savage  inhabitants.  In  fact,  the  de- 
tails of  this  narrative  sufficiently  account  for  the  slowness  of 
their  progress,  and  present  an  array  of  difficulties  and  perils 
which,  as  has  been  well  observed,  none  but  those  "men  of 
iron"  could  have  subdued  and  overcome.* 


CHAPTER  TEN 

VASCO  NUNEZ   MARCHES  TO  THE  SHORES  OF  THE   SOUTH  SEJfc 

HAVING  taken  possession  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  all  its 
realms  from  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  Vasco  Nunez  now 
descended  with  his  little  band  to  seek  the  regions  of  reputed 
wealth  upon  its  shores.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he 
came  to  the  province  of  a  warlike  cacique  named  Chiapes, 

*  Vidas  de  Espanoles  Celebres,  por  Don  Manuel  Josef  Quintana. 
Tom.  ii.,  p.  40. 


Sparest?  l/oya^es  of  Disoouery 

who,  issuing  forth  at  the  head  of  his  warriors,  looked  with 
scorn  upon  the  scanty  number  of  straggling  Spaniards,  and 
forbade  them  to  set  foot  within  his  territories.  Vasco  Nunez 
depended  for  safety  upon  his  power  of  striking  terror  into  the 
ignorant  savages.  Ordering  his  arquebusiers  to  the  front, 
he  poured  a  volley  into  the  enemy,  and  then  let  loose  the 
bloodhounds.  The  flash  and  noise  of  the  firearms,  and  the 
sulphurous  smoke  which  was  carried  by  the  wind  among 
the  Indians,  overwhelmed  them  with  dismay.  Some  fell 
down  hi  a  panic  as  though  they  had  been  struck  by  thun* 
derbolts,  the  rest  betook  themselves  to  headlong  flight. 

Vasco  Nunez  commanded  his  men  to  refrain  from  need* 
less  slaughter.  He  made  many  prisoners,  and  on  arriving 
at  the  village,  sent  some  of  them  in  search  of  their  cacique, 
accompanied  by  several  of  his  Indian  guides.  The  latter  in- 
formed Chiapes  of  the  supernatural  power  of  the  Spaniards, 
assuring  him  that  they  exterminated  with  thunder  and  light- 
ning all  who  dared  to  oppose  them,  but  loaded  all  such  as 
submitted  to  them  with  benefits.  They  advised  him,  there- 
fore, to  throw  himself  upon  their  mercy  and  seek  their  friend* 
ship. 

The  cacique  listened  to  their  advice,  and  came  trembling 
to  the  Spaniards,  bringing  with  him  five  hundred  pounds' 
weight  of  wrought  gold  as  a  peace-offering,  for  he  had  al- 
ready learned  the  value  they  set  upon  that  metal.  Vasco 
Nunez  received  him  with  great  kindness,  and  graciously  ac- 
cepted his  gold,  for  which  he  gave  him  beads,  hawks'  bells, 
and  looking-glasses,  making  him,  in  his  own  conceit,  the 
richest  potentate  on  that  side  of  the  mountains. 

Friendship  being  thus  established  between  them,  Vasco 
Nunez  remained  at  the  village  for  a  few  days,  sending  back 
the  guides  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Quaraqua,  and 
ordering  his  people,  whom  he  had  left  at  that  place,  to  rejoin 
him.  In  the  meantime  he  sent  out  three  scouting  parties,  of 
twelve  men  each,  under  Francisco  Pizarro,  Juan  de  Escary, 
and  Alonzo  Martin  de  Bon  Benito,  to  explore  the  surround- 
ing country  and  discover  the  best  route  to  the  sea.  Alonzo 


460  U/orX&  of  U/a8l?ii}($toi} 

Martin  was  the  most  successful.  After  two  days*  journey 
he  came  to  a  beach,  where  he  found  two  large  canoes  lying 
high  and  dry,  without  any  water  being  hi  sight.  While  the 
Spaniards  were  regarding  these  canoes,  and  wondering  why 
they  should  be  so  far  on  land,  the  tide,  which  rises  to  a  great 
height  on  that  coast,  came  rapidly  in  and  set  them  afloat; 
upon  this,  Alonzo  Martin  stepped  into  one  of  them,  and  called 
his  companions  to  bear  witness  that  he  was  the  first  Euro- 
pean that  embarked  upon  that  sea ;  his  example  was  followed 
by  one  Bias  de  Etienza,  who  called  them  likewise  to  testify 
that  he  was  the  second.* 

We  mention  minute  particulars  of  the  kind  as  being  char- 
acteristic of  these  extraordinary  enterprises,  and  of  the  ex- 
traordinary people  who  undertook  them.  The  humblest  of 
these  Spanisn  adventurers  seemed  actuated  by  a  swelling 
and  ambitious  spirit,  that  rose  superior  at  times  to  mere  sor- 
did considerations,  and  aspired  to  share  the  glory  of  these 
great  discoveries.  The  scouting  party  having  thus  explored 
a  direct  route  to  the  seacoast,  returned  to  report  their  success 
to  their  commander. 

Vasco  Nunez,  being  rejoined  by  his  men  from  Quaraqua, 
now  left  the  greater  part  of  his  followers  to  repose  and  recover 
from  their  sickness  and  fatigues  in  the  village  of  Chiapes, 
and,  taking  with  him  twenty-six  Spaniards,  well  armed,  he 
set  out,  on  the  29th  of  September,  for  the  seacoast,  accom- 
panied by  the  cacique  and  a  number  of  his  warriors.  The 
thick  forest  which  covered  the  mountains  descended  to  the 
very  margin  of  the  sea,  surrounding  and  overshadowing 
the  wide  and  beautiful  bays  that  penetrated  far  into  the  land. 
The  whole  coast,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  perfectly 
wild,  the  sea  without  a  sail,  and  both  seemed  never  to  have 
been  under  the  dominion  of  civilized  man. 

Vasco  Nunez  arrived  on  the  borders  of  one  of  those  vast 
bays,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Saint  Michael,  it  being 
discovered  on  that  saint's  day.  The  tide  was  out,  the  water 

*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.,  d.  i.  1.  x.  c.  & 


Spai)f8l?  Voyages  of  Discovery  461 

was  above  half  a  league  distant,  and  the  intervening  beach 
was  covered  with  mud;  he  seated  himself,  therefore,  under 
the  shade  of  the  forest  trees  until  the  tide  should  rise.  After 
a  while  the  water  came  rushing  in  with  great  impetuosity, 
and  soon  reached  nearly  to  the  place  where  the  Spaniards 
were  reposing.  Upon  this,  Vasco  Nunez  rose  and  took  a 
banner,  on  which  were  painted  the  Virgin  and  Child,  and 
under  them  the  arms  of  Castile  and  Leon;. then,  drawing  his 
sword  and  throwing  his  buckler  on  his  shoulder,  he  marched 
into  the  sea  until  the  water  reached  above  his  knees,  and 
waving  his  banner,  exclaimed,  with  a  loud  voice,  "Long  live 
the  high  and  mighty  monarchs,  Don  Ferdinand  and  Donna 
Juanna,  sovereigns  of  Castile,  of  Leon,  and  of  Aragon,  in 
whose  name,  and  for  the  royal  crown  of  Castile,  I  take  real, 
and  corporal,  and  actual  possession  of  these  seas,  and  lands, 
and  coasts,  and  ports,  and  islands  of  the  South,  and  all  there* 
unto  annexed;  and  of  the  kingdoms  and  provinces  which  do 
or  may  appertain  to  them  in  whatever  manner,  or  by  what- 
ever right  or  title,  ancient  or  modern,  in  times  past,  present, 
or  to  coma,  without  any  contradiction ;  and  if  other  prince  or 
captain,  Christian  or  Infidel,  or  of  any  law,  sect,  or  condition 
whatsoever,  shall  pretend  any  right  to  these  lands  and  seas, 
I  am  ready  and  prepared  to  maintain  and  defend  them  in  the 
name  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  present  and  future,  whose 
is  the  empire  and  dominion  over  these  Indias,  islands,  and 
terra  firma,  northern  and  southern,  with  all  their  seas,  both 
at  the  arctic  and  antarctic  poles,  on  either  side  of  the  equinoc- 
tial line,  whether  within  or  without  the  tropics  of  Cancer  and 
Capricorn,  both  now  and  in  all  times,  as  long  as  the  world 
endures,  and  until  the  final  day  of  judgment  of  all  man- 
kind." 

This  swelling  declaration  and  defiance  being  uttered  with 
a  loud  voice,  and  no  one  appearing  to  dispute  his  pretensions, 
Vasco  Nunez  called  upon  his  companions  to  bear  witness  of 
the  fact  of  his  having  duly  taken  possession.  They  all  de- 
clared themselves  ready  to  defend  his  claim  to  the  uttermost, 
as  became  true  and  loyal  vassals  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns; 


of 

and  the  notary  having  drawn  up  a  document  for  the  occa- 
sion, they  all  subscribed  it  with  their  names. 

This  done,  they  advanced  to  the  margin  of  the  sea,  and 
stooping  down  tasted  its  waters.  When  they  found  that, 
though  severed  by  intervening  mountains  and  continents, 
they  were  salt  like  the  seas  of  the  north,  they  felt  assured 
that  they  had  indeed  discovered  an  ocean,  and  again  returned 
thanks  to  God. 

Having  concluded  all  these  ceremonies,  Vasco  Nunez  drew 
a  dagger  from  his  girdle  and  cut  a  cross  on  a  tree  which  grew 
within  the  water,  and  made  two  other  crosses  on  two  adjacent 
trees  in  honor  of  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  and  in 
token  of  possession.  His  followers  likewise  cut  crosses  on 
many  of  the  trees  of  the  adjacent  forest,  and  lopped  off 
branches  with  their  swords  to  bear  away  as  trophies.* 

Such  was  the  singular  medley  of  chivalrous  and  religious 
ceremonial  with  which  these  Spanish  adventurers  took  pos- 
session of  the  vast  Pacific  Ocean,  and  all  its  lands — a  scene 
strongly  characteristic  of  the  nation  and  the  age. 


CHAPTER    ELEVEN 

ADVENTURES  OP  VASCO  NUNEZ  ON  THE  BORDERS  OF  THE 
PACIFIC  OCEAN 

WHILE  he  made  the  village  of  Chiapes  his  headquarters, 
Vasco  Nunez  foraged  the  adjacent  country  and  obtained  a 
considerable  quantity  of  gold  from  the  natives.  Encouraged 
by  his  success  he  undertook  to  explore  by  sea  the  borders  of 
a  neighboring  gulf  of  great  extent,  which  penetrated  far  into 
the  land.  The  cacique  Chiapes  warned  him  of  the  danger  of 
venturing  to  sea  in  the  stormy  season,  which  comprises  the 
months  of  October,  November,  and  December,  assuring  him 

*  Many  of  the  foregoing  particulars  are  from  the  unpublished  vol- 
ume of  Oviedo's  History  of  the  Indias. 


Spares!?  l/oya^es  of  Disoouery  463 

that  he  had  beheld  many  canoes  swallowed  up  in  the  mighty 
waves  and  whirlpools  which  at  such  times  render  the  gulf 
almost  unnavigable. 

These  remonstrances  were  unavailing.  Vasco  Nunez  ex- 
pressed a  confident  belief  that  God  would  protect  him,  seeing 
that  his  voyage  was  to  redound  to  the  propagation  of  the 
faith  and  the  augmentation  of  the  power  of  the  Castilian 
monarchs  over  the  Infidels;  and  in  truth  this  bigoted  reliance 
on  the  immediate  protection  of  Heaven  seems  to  have  been  in 
a  great  measure  the  cause  of  the  extravagant  daring  of  the 
Spaniards  in  their  expeditions  in  those  days,  whether  against 
Moors  or  Indians. 

Seeing  his  representations  of  no  effect,  Chiapes  volun- 
teered to  take  part  in  this  perilous  cruise,  lest  he  should  ap- 
pear wanting  in  courage,  or  in  good- will  to  his  guest.  Accom- 
panied by  the  cacique,  therefore,  Vasco  Nunez  embarked  on 
the  l?th  of  October  with  sixty  of  his  men  in  nine  canoes, 
managed  by  Indians,  leaving  the  residue  of  his  followers  to 
recruit  their  health  and  strength  in  the  village  of  Chiapes. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  they  put  forth  on  the  broad  bosom 
of  the  gulf  when  the  wisdom  of  the  cacique's  advice  was 
made  apparent.  The  wind  began  to  blow  freshly,  raising 
a  heavy  and  tumultuous  sea,  which  broke  in  roaring  and 
foaming  surges  on  the  rocks  and  reefs,  and  among  the  nu- 
merous islets  with  which  the  gulf  was  studded.  The  light 
canoes  were  deeply  laden  with  men  unskilled  in  their  man- 
agement. It  was  frightful  to  those  in  one  canoe  to  behold 
their  companions,  one  instant  tossed  on  high  on  the  break- 
ing crest  of  a  wave,  the  next  plunging  out  of  sight,  as  if 
swallowed  in  a  watery  abyss.  The  Indians  themselves, 
though  almost  amphibious  in  their  habits,  showed  signs  of 
consternation;  for  amid  these  rocks  and  breakers  even  the 
skill  of  the  expert  swimmer  would  be  of  little  avail.  At 
length  the  Indians  succeeded  in  tying  the  canoes  hi  pairs, 
side  by  side,  to  prevent  their  being  overturned,  and  in  this 
way  they  kept  afloat,  until  toward  evening  they  were  en- 
abled to  reach  a  small  island.  Here  they  landed,  and  fasten* 


±04  Wor^s  of  U/asl?io$torj  Irulpq 

ing  the  canoes  to  the  rocks,  or  to  small  trees  that  grew  upon 
the  shore,  they  sought  an  elevated  dry  place,  and  stretched 
themselves  to  take  repose.  They  had  but  escaped  from  one 
danger  to  encounter  another.  Having  been  for  a  long  time 
accustomed  to  the  sea  on  the  northern  side  of  the  isthmus, 
where  there  is  little,  if  any,  rise  or  fall  of  the  tide,  they  had 
neglected  to  take  any  precaution  against  such  an  occurrence. 
In  a  little  while  they  were  awakened  from  their  sleep  by  the 
rapid  rising  of  the  water.  They  shifted  their  situation  to  a 
higher  ground,  but  the  waters  continued  to  gain  upon  them, 
the  breakers  rushing  and  roaring  and  foaming  upon  the 
beach  like  so  many  monsters  of  the  deep  seeking  for  their 
prey.  Nothing,  it  is  said,  can  be  more  dismal  and  appalling 
than  the  sullen  bellowing  of  the  sea  among  the  islands  of  that 
gulf  at  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  tide.  By  degrees,  rock 
after  rock,  and  one  sand  bank  after  another  disappeared,  un- 
til the  sea  covered  the  whole  island,  and  rose  almost  to  the 
girdles  of  the  Spaniards.  Their  situation  was  now  agoniz- 
ing, A  little  more  and  the  waters  would  overwhelm  them; 
or,  even  as  it  was,  the  least  surge  might  break  over  them 
and  sweep  them  from  their  unsteady  footing.  Fortunately 
the  wind  had  lulled,  and  the  sea,  having  risen  above  the 
rocks  which  had  fretted  it,  was  calm,  The  tide  had  reached 
its  height  and  began  to  subside,  and  after  a  time  they  heard 
the  retiring  waves  beating  against  the  rocks  below  them. 

When  the  day  dawned  they  sought  their  canoes;  but  here 
a  sad  spectacle  met  their  eyes.  Some  were  broken  to  pieces, 
others  yawning  open  in  many  parts.  The  clothing  and  food 
left  in  them  had  been  washed  away,  and  replaced  by  sand 
**nd  water.  The  Spaniards  gazed  on  the  scene  in  mute  de- 
spair; they  were  faint  and  weary,  and  needed  food  and  re- 
pose, but  famine  and  labor  awaited  them,  even  if  they  should 
escape  with  their  lives.  Vasoo  Nunez,  however,  rallied  their 
spirits,  and  set  them  an  example  by  his  own  cheerful  exer- 
tions. Obeying  his  directions,  they  set  to  work  to  repair,  in 
the  best  manner  they  were  able,  the  damages  of  the  canoes. 
Such  as  were  not  too  much  shattered  they  bound  and  braced 


468 

up  with  their  girdles,  with  slips  of  the  bark  of  trees,  or  with 
the  tough  long  stalks  of  certain  sea- weeds.  They  then  peeled 
off  the  bark  from  the  small  sea  plants,  pounded  it  between 
stones,  and  mixed  it  with  grass,  and  with  this  endeavored  to 
calk  the  seams  and  stop  the  leaks  that  remained.  When  they 
re-embarked,  their  numbers  weighed  down  the  canoes  almost 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  as  they  rose  and  sank  with  the  swell- 
ing waves  there  was  danger  of  their  being  swallowed  up. 
All  day  they  labored  with  the  sea,  suffering  excessively  from 
the  pangs  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  at  nightfall  they  landed 
in  a  corner  of  the  gulf,  near  the  abode  of  a  cacique  named 
Tumaco.  Leaving  a  part  of  his  men  to  guard  the  canoes, 
Vasco  Nunez  set  out  with  the  residue  for  the  Indian  town. 
He  arrived  there  about  midnight,  but  the  inhabitants  were 
on  the  alert  to  defend  their  habitations.  The  firearms  and 
dogs  soon  put  them  to  flight,  and  the  Spaniards,  pursuing 
them  with  their  swords,  drove  them  howling  into  the  woods. 
In  the  village  were  found  provisions  in  abundance,  besides  a 
considerable  amount  of  gold  and  a  great  quantity  of  pearls, 
many  of  them  of  a  large  size.  In  the  house  of  the  cacique 
were  several  huge  shells  of  mother-of  pearl,  and  four  pearl 
oysters  quite  fresh,  which  showed  that  there  was  a  pearl  fish- 
ery in  the  neighborhood.  Eager  to  learn  the  source?  of  this 
wealth,  Vasco  Nunez  sent  several  of  the  Indians  of  Chiapes 
in  search  of  the  cacique,  who  traced  him  to  a  wild  retreat 
among  the  rocks.  By  their  persuasions  Tumaco  sent  his  son, 
a  fine  young  savage,  as  a  mediator.  The  latter  returned  to 
his  father  loaded  with  presents,  and  extolling  the  benignity 
of  these  superhuman  beings,  who  had  shown  themselves  so 
terrible  in  battle.  By  these  means,  and  by  a  mutual  ex- 
change of  presents,  a  friendly  intercourse  was  soon  estab- 
lished. Among  other  things  the  cacique  gave  Vasco  Nunez 
jewels  of  gold  weighing  six  hundred  and  fourteen  crowns, 
and  two  hundred  pearls  of  great  size  and  beauty,  excepting 
that  they  were  somewhat  discolored  in  consequence  of  the 
oysters  having  been  opened  by  fire. 

The  cacique,  seeing  the  value  which  the  Spaniards  set 


466  Works  of  U/asbii?$toi7 

upon  the  pearls,  Bent  a  number  of  his  men  to  fish  for  them 
at  a  place  about  ten  miles  distant.  Certain  of  the  Indians 
were  trained  from  their  youth  to  this  purpose,  so  as  to  become 
expert  divers,  and  to  acquire  the  power  of  remaining  a  long 
time  beneath  the  water.  The  largest  pearls  are  generally 
found  in  the  deepest  water,  sometimes  in  three  and  four 
fathoms,  and  are  only  sought  in  calm  weather;  the  smaller 
sort  are  found  at  the  depth  of  two  and  three  feet,  and  the 
oysters  containing  them  are  often  driven  in  quantities  on  the 
beach  during  violent  storms. 

The  party  of  pearl  divers  sent  by  the  cacique  consisted  of 
thirty  Indians,  with  whom  Vasco  Nunez  sent  six  Spaniards 
as  eye-witnesses.  The  sea,  however,  was  so  furious  at  that 
gtormy  season  that  the  divers  dared  not  venture  into  the  deep 
water.  Such  a  number  of  the  shellfish,  however,  had  been 
driven  on  shore  that  they  collected  enough  to  yield  pearls  to 
the  value  of  twelve  marks  of  gold.  They  were  small,  but 
exceedingly  beautiful,  being  newly  taken  and  uninjured  by 
fire.  A  number  of  these  shellfish  and  their  pearls  were 
selected  to  be  sent  to  Spain  as  specimens. 

In  reply  to  the  inquiries  of  Vasco  Klines,  the  cacique  in- 
formed him  that  the  coast  which  he  saw  stretching  to  the 
west  continued  onward  without  end,  and  that  far  to  the  south 
there  was  a  country  abounding  in  golds  where  the  inhabit- 
ants made  use  of  certain  quadrupeds  to  cany  burdens.  He 
molded  a  figure  of  clay  to  represent  these  animals,  which 
some  of  the  Spaniards  supposed  to  be  a  deer,  others  a  camel, 
others  a  tapir,  for  as  yet  they  knew  nothing  of  the  llama,  the 
native  beast  of  burden  of  South  America.  This  was  the  sec- 
ond intimation  received  by  Vasco  Nunez  of  the  great  empire 
t>f  Peru;  and,  while  it  confirmed  all  that  had  been  told  him 
by  the  son  of  Comagre,  it  filled  him  with  glowing  anticipa- 
tions of  the  glorious  triumphs  that  awaited  him. 


Voyages  of  Disoouery  467 


CHAPTER    TWELVE 


LEST  any  ceremonial  should  be  wanting  to  secure  this 
grand  discovery  to  the  crown  of  Spain,  Vasco  Nunez  deter- 
mined to  sally  from  the  gulf  and  take  possession  of  the  main 
land  beyond.  The  cacique  Tumaco  furnished  him  with  a 
canoe  of  state,  formed  from  the  trunk  of  an  enormous  tree, 
and  managed  by  a  great  number  of  Indians.  The  handles 
of  the  paddles  were  inlaid  with  small  pearls,  a  circumstance 
which  Vasco  Nunez  caused  his  companions  to  testify  before 
the  notary,  that  it  might  be  reported  to  the  sovereigns  as  a 
proof  of  the  wealth  of  this  newly  discovered  sea.* 

Departing  in  the  canoe  on  the  29th  of  October,  he  was 
piloted  cautiously  by  the  Indians  along  the  borders  of  the 
gulf,  over  drowned  lands  where  the  sea  was  fringed  by  in- 
undated forests  and  as  still  as  a  pool.  Arrived  at  the  point 
of  the  gulf,  Vasco  Nunez  landed  on  a  smooth  sandy  beach, 
laved  by  the  waters  of  the  broad  ocean,  and,  with  buckler  on 
arm,  sword  in  hand,  and  banner  displayed,  again  marched 
into  the  sea  and  took  possession  of  it,  with  like  ceremonials 
to  those  observed  in  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael's. 

The  Indians  now  pointed  to  a  line  of  land  rising  above 
the  horizon  about  four  or  five  leagues  distant,  which  they 
described  as  being  a  great  island,  the  principal  one  of  an 
archipelago.  The  whole  group  abounded  with  pearls,  but 
those  taken  on  the  coasts  of  this  island  were  represented  as 
being  of  immense  size,  many  of  them  as  large  as  a  man's 
eye,  and  found  in  shellfish  as  big  as  bucklers.  This  island 
and  the  surrounding  cluster  of  small  ones,  they  added,  were 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Oen.,  Part  II.,  MS. 


468  UYorKs  of 

under  the  dominion  of  a  tyrannical  and  puissant  cacique,  who 
often,  during  the  calm  seasons,  made  descents  upon  the  main- 
land with  fleets  of  canoes,  plundering  and  desolating  the 
coasts,  and  carrying  the  people  into  captivity. 

Vasco  Nunez  gazed  with  an  eager  and  wistful  eye  at  this 
land  of  riches,  and  would  have  immediately  undertaken  an 
expedition  to  it,  had  not  the  Indians  represented  the  danger 
of  venturing  on  such  a  voyage  in  that  tempestuous  season  in 
their  frail  canoes.  His  own  recent  experience  convinced  him 
of  the  wisdom  of  their  remonstrances.  He  postponed  his 
visit,  therefore,  to  a  future  occasion,  when,  he  assured  his 
allies,  he  would  avenge  them  upon  this  tyrant  invader,  and 
deliver  their  coasts  from  his  maraudings.  In  the  meantime 
he  gave  to  this  island  the  name  of  Isla  Rica,  and  the  little 
archipelago  surrounding  it  the  general  appellation  of  the 
Pearl  Islands. 

On  the  third  of  November,  Vasco  Nunez  departed  from 
the  province  of  Tumaco,  to  visit  other  parts  of  the  coast. 
He  embarked  with  his  men  in  the  canoes,  accompanied  by 
Chiapes  and  his  Indians,  and  guided  by  the  son  of  Tumaco, 
who  had  become  strongly  attached  to  the  Spaniards.  The 
young  man  piloted  them  along  an  arm  of  the  sea,  wide  in 
some  places,  but  in  others  obstructed  by  groves  of  mangrove 
trees,  which  grew  within  the  water  and  interlaced  their 
branches  from  shore  to  shore,  so  that  at  times  the  Spaniards 
were  obliged  to  cut  a  passage  with  their  swords. 

At  length  they  entered  a  great  and  turbulent  river,  which 
they  ascended  with  difficulty,  and  early  the  next  morning 
surprised  a  village  on  its  banks,  making  the  cacique  Teao- 
chan  prisoner;  who  purchased  their  favor  and  kind  treat- 
ment by  a  quantity  of  gold  and  pearls,  and  an  abundant  sup- 
ply of  provisions.  As  it  was  the  intention  of  Vasco  Nunez 
to  abandon  the  shores  of  the  Southern  Ocean  at  this  place, 
and  to  strike  across  the  mountains  for  Darien,  he  took  leave 
of  Chiapes  and  of  the  youthful  son  of  Tumaco,  who  were  to 
return  to  their  houses  in  the  canoes.  He  sent  at  the  same 
time  a  message  to  his  men,  whom  he  had  left  in  the  village 


Sparest?  l/oya$e«  of  Disoouery  469 

of  Chiapes,  appointing  a  place  in  the  mountains  where  they 
were  to  rejoin  him  on  his  way  back  to  Darien. 

The  talent  of  Vasco  Nunez  for  conciliating  and  winning 
the  good-will  of  the  savages  is  often  mentioned,  and  to  such 
a  degree  had  he  exerted  it  in  the  present  instance  that  the 
two  chieftains  shed  tears  at  parting.  Their  conduct  had  a 
favorable  effect  upon  the  cacique  Teaochan;  he  entertained 
Vasco  Nunez  with  the  most  devoted  hospitality  during  three 
days  that  he  remained  in  his  village;  when  about  to  depart 
he  furnished  him  with  a  stock  of  provisions  sufficient  for  sev- 
eral days,  as  his  route  would  lay  over  rocky  and  sterile  moun- 
tains. He  sent  also  a  numerous  band  of  his  subjects  to  carry 
the  burdens  of  the  Spaniards.  These  he  placed  under  the 
command  of  his  son,  whom  he  ordered  never  to  separate 
from  the  strangers,  nor  to  permit  any  of  his  men  to  return 
without  the  consent  of  Vasco  Nunez. 


CHAPTER    THIRTEEN 

VASCO  NUNEZ  SETS  OUT  ON  HIS  RETURN  ACROSS  THE  MOUN- 
TAINS— HIS  CONTESTS  WITH  THE  SAVAGES 

TURNING  their  backs  upon  the  Southern  Sea,  the  Span- 
iards now  began  painfully  to  clamber  the  rugged  mountains 
on  their  return  to  Darien. 

In  the  early  part  of  their  route  an  unlooked-for  suffering 
awaited  them:  there  was  neither  brook  nor  fountain  nor 
standing  pool.  The  burning  heat,  which  produced  intoler- 
able thirst,  had  dried  up  all  the  mountain  torrents,  and  they 
were  tantalized  by  the  sight  of  naked  and  dusty  channels 
where  water  had  once  flowed  in  abundance.  Their  suffer- 
ings at  length  increased  to  such  a  height  that  many  threw 
themselves  fevered  and  panting  upon  the  earth,  and  were 
ready  to  give  up  the  ghost.  The  Indians,  however,  encour- 
aged them  to  proceed,  by  hopes  of  speedy  relief,  and  after  a 
while,  turning  aside  from  the  direct  course,  led  them  into 


470  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ir>$tor;  Irulr;<? 

a  deep  and  narrow  glen,  refreshed  and  cooled  by  a  fountain 
which  bubbled  out  of  a  cleft  of  the  rocks. 

While  refreshing  themselves  at  the  fountain,  and  repos- 
ing in  the  little  valley,  they  learned  from  their  guides  that 
they  were  in  the  territories  of  a  powerful  chief  named  Pon- 
cra,  famous  for  his  riches.  The  Spaniards  had  already  heard 
of  the  golden  stores  of  this  Croesus  of  the  mountains,  and 
being  now  refreshed  and  invigorated  pressed  forward  with 
eagerness  for  his  village. 

The  cacique  and  most  of  his  people  fled  at  their  approach, 
but  they  found  an  earnest  of  his  wealth  in  the  deserted  houses, 
amounting  to  the  value  of  three  thousand  crowns  in  gold. 
Their  avarice  thus  whetted,  they  dispatched  Indians  in  search 
of  Poncra,  who  found  him  trembling  in  his  secret  retreat, 
and  partly  by  threats,  partly  by  promises,  prevailed  upon 
him  and  three  of  his  principal  subjects  to  come  to  Vasco 
Nunez.  He  was  a  savage,  it  is  said,  so  hateful  of  aspect,  so 
misshapen  in  body  and  deformed  in  all  his  members,  that  he 
was  hideous  to  behold.  The  Spaniards  endeavored  by  gentle 
means  to  draw  from  him  information  of  the  places  from 
whence  he  had  procured  his  gold.  He  professed  utter  igno- 
rance in  the  matter,  declaring  that  the  gold  found  in  his  vil- 
lage had  been  gathered  by  his  predecessors  in  times  long  past, 
and  that  as  he  himself  set  no  value  on  the  metal  he  had  never 
troubled  himself  to  seek  it.  The  Spaniards  resorted  to  men- 
aces, and  even,  it  is  said,  to  tortures,  to  compel  him  to  betray 
his  reputed  treasures,  but  with  no  better  success.  Disap- 
pointed in  their  expectations,  and  enraged  at  his  supposed 
obstinacy,  they  listened  too  readily  to  charges  advanced 
against  him  by  certain  caciques  of  the  neighborhood,  who 
represented  him  as  a  monster  of  cruelty,  and  as  guilty  of 
crimes  repugnant  to  nature  ;*  whereupon,  in  the  heat  of  the 
moment,  they  gave  him  and  his  three  companions,  who  were 
said  to  be  equally  guilty,  to  be  torn  in  pieces  by  the  dogs.  A 
rash  and  cruel  sentence,  given  on  the  evidence  of  avowed 

*  P.  Martyr,  d.  iii.  c.  2. 


Spaniel?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  471 

enemies;  and  which,  however  it  may  be  palliated  by  the  al- 
leged horror  and  disgust  of  the  Spaniards  at  the  imputed 
crimes  of  the  cacique,  bears  too  much  the  stamp  of  haste  and 
passion,  and  remains  a  foul  blot  on  the  character  of  Vasco 
Nunez. 

The  Spaniards  remained  for  thirty  days  reposing  in  the 
village  of  the  unfortunate  Poncra,  during  which  time  they 
were  rejoined  by  their  companions,  who  had  been  left  behind 
at  the  village  of  Chiapes.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  ca- 
cique of  the  mountains,  who  had  lodged  and  fed  them,  and 
made  them  presents  of  the  value  of  two  thousand  crowns  in 
gold.  This  hospitable  savage  approached  Vasco  Nunez  with 
a  serene  countenance,  and  taking  him  by  the  hand,  "Behold," 
said  he,  "most  valiant  and  powerful  chief,  I  bring  thee  thy 
companions  safe  and  well,  as  they  entered  under  my  roof. 
May  he  who  made  the  thunder  and  lightning,  and  who  gives 
us  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  preserve  thee  and  thine  in  safety!" 

So  saying,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  sun,  as  if  he  wor- 
shiped that  as  his  deity  and  the  dispenser  of  all  temporal 
blessings.* 

Departing  from  this  village,  and  being  still  accompanied 
by  the  Indians  of  Teaochan,  the  Spaniards  now  bent  their 
course  along  the  banks  of  the  river  Comagre,  which  descends 
the  northern  side  of  the  isthmus,  and  flows  through  the  ter- 
ritories of  the  cacique  of  the  same  name.  This  wild  stream, 
which  in  the  course  of  ages  had  worn  a  channel  through  the 
deep  clefts  and  ravines  of  the  mountains,  was  bordered  by 
precipices,  or  overhung  by  shagged  forests ;  they  soon  aban- 
doned it,  therefore,  and  wandered  on  without  any  path,  but 
guided  by  the  Indians.  They  had  to  climb  terrible  preci- 
pices, and  to  descend  into  deep  valleys,  darkened  by  thick 
forests  and  beset  by  treacherous  morasses,  where,  but  for 
their  guides,  they  might  have  been  smothered  in  the  mire. 

In  the  course  of  this  rugged  journey  they  suffered  exces- 
sively in  consequence  of  their  own  avarice.  They  had  been 

*Herrera,  d.  i.  1.  x.  c.  4. 


472  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi} 

warned  of  the  sterility  of  the  country  they  were  about  to 
traverse,  and  of  the  necessity  of  providing  amply  for  the 
journey.  When  they  came  to  load  the  Indians,  however, 
who  bore  their  burdens,  their  only  thought  was  how  to  con- 
vey the  most  treasure ;  and  they  grudged  even  a  slender  sup- 
ply of  provisions,  as  taking  up  the  place  of  an  equal  weight 
of  gold.  The  consequences  were  soon  felt.  The  Indians 
could  carry  but  small  burdens,  and  at  the  same  time  assisted 
to  consume  the  scanty  stock  of  food  which  formed  part  of 
their  load.  Scarcity  and  famine  ensued,  and  relief  was  rarely 
to  be  procured ;  for  the  villages  on  this  elevated  part  of  the 
mountains  were  scattered  and  poor,  and  nearly  destitute  of 
provisions.  They  held  no  communication  with  each  other ; 
each  contenting  itself  with  the  scanty  produce  of  its  own 
fields  and  forest.  Some  were  entirely  deserted;  at  other 
places,  the  inhabitants,  forced  from  their  retreats,  implored 
pardon,  and  declared  they  had  hidden  themselves  through 
shame,  not  having  the  means  of  properly  entertaining  such 
celestial  visitors.  They  brought  peace-offerings  of  gold,  but 
no  provisions.  For  once  the  Spaniards  found  that  even  their 
darling  gold  could  fail  to  cheer  their  drooping  spirits.  Their 
Bufferings  from  hunger  became  intense,  and  many  of  their 
Indian  companions  sank  down  and  perished  by  the  way.  At 
length  they  reached  a  village  where  they  were  enabled  to 
obtain  supplies,  and  where  they  remained  thirty  days,  to  re- 
cruit their  wasted  strength. 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 

ENTERPRISE    AGAINST    TUBANAMA,    THE  WARLIKE    CACIQUH 
OF  THE   MOUNTAINS — RETURN  TO  DARIEN 

THE  Spaniards  had  now  to  pass  through  the  territories  of 
Tubanama,  the  most  potent  and  warlike  cacique  of  the  moun- 
tains. This  was  the  same  chieftain  s>f  whom  a  formidable 


Spai?isl?  l/oya^ej  of  Discovery  473 

character  had  been  given  by  the  young  Indian  prince  who 
first  informed  Vasco  Nunez  of  the  Southern  Sea.  He  had 
erroneously  represented  the  dominions  of  Tubanama  as  lying 
beyond  the  mountains ;  and,  when  he  dwelt  upon  the  quanti- 
ties of  gold  to  be  found  in  them,  had  magnified  the  dangers 
that  would  attend  any  attempt  to  pass  their  borders.  The 
name  of  this  redoubtable  cacique  was,  in  fact,  a  terror  through- 
out the  country;  and  when  Vasco  Nunez  looked  round  upon 
his  handful  of  pale  and  emaciated  followers,  he  doubted 
whether  even  the  superiority  of  their  weapons  and  their  mili- 
tary skill  would  enable  them  to  cope  with  Tubanama  and 
his  armies  in  open  contest.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  vent- 
ure upon  a  perilous  stratagem.  When  he  made  it  known  to 
his  men,  every  one  pressed  forward  to  engage  in  it.  Choos- 
ing seventy  of  the  most  vigorous,  he  ordered  the  rest  to  main- 
tain their  post  in  the  village. 

As  soon  as  night  had  fallen,  he  departed  silently  and 
secretly  with  his  chosen  band  and  made  his  way  with  such 
rapidity  through  the  labyrinths  of  the  forests  and  the  defiles 
of  the  mountains  that  he  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
residence  of  Tubanama  by  the  following  evening,  though  at 
the  distance  of  two  regular  days'  journey. 

There,  waiting  until  midnight,  he  assailed  the  village 
suddenly  and  with  success,  so  as  to  surprise  and  capture  the 
cacique  and  his  whole  family,  in  which  were  eighty  females. 
When  Tubanama  found  himself  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of 
the  Spaniards,  he  lost  all  presence  of  mind  and  wept  bitterly. 
The  Indian  allies  of  Vasco  Nunez,  beholding  their  once- 
dreaded  enemy  thus  fallen  and  captive,  now  urged  that  he 
should  be  put  to  death,  accusing  him  of  various  crimes  and 
cruelties.  Vasco  Nunez  pretended  to  listen  to  their  prayers, 
and  gave  orders  that  his  captive  should  be  tied  hand  and  foot 
and  given  to  the  dogs.  The  cacique  approached  him  trem- 
bling, and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  pommel  of  his  sword. 
"Who  can  pretend,"  said  he,  "to  strive  with  one  who  bears 
this  weapon,  which  can  cleave  a  man  asunder  with  a  blow? 
Ever  since  thy  fame  has  reached  among  these  mountains 


474  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir>$toi)  Irufr}<? 

have  I  reverenced  thy  valor.  Spare  my  life  and  thou  shalt 
have  all  the  gold  I  can  procure.*' 

Vasco  Nunez,  whose  anger  was  assumed,  was  readily 
pacified.  As  soon  as  the  day  dawned  the  cacique  gave  him 
armlets  and  other  jewels  of  gold  to  the  value  of  three  thou- 
sand crowns,  and  sent  messengers  throughout  his  dominions 
ordering  his  subjects  to  aid  in  paying  his  ransom.  The  poor 
Indians,  with  their  accustomed  loyalty,  hastened  in  crowds, 
bringing  their  golden  ornaments,  until,  in  the  course  of  three 
days,  they  had  produced  an  amount  equal  to  six  thousand 
crowns.  This  done,  Vasco  Nunez  set  the  cacique  at  liberty, 
bestowing  on  him  several  European  trinkets,  with  which  he 
considered  himself  richer  than  he  had  been  with  all  his  gold. 
Nothing  would  draw  from  him,  however,  the  disclosure  of 
the  mines  from  whence  this  treasure  was  procured.  He  de- 
clared that  it  came  from  the  territories  of  his  neighbors, 
where  gold  and  pearls  were  to  be  found  in  abundance ;  but 
that  his  lands  produced  nothing  of  the  kind.  Vasco  Nunez 
doubted  his  sincerity,  and  secretly  caused  the  brooks  and 
rivers  in  his  dominions  to  be  searched,  where  gold  was  found 
in  such  quantities  that  he  determined  at  a  future  time  to 
found  two  settlements  in  the  neighborhood. 

On  parting  with  Tubanama,  the  cacique  sent  his  son  with 
the  Spaniards  to  learn  their  language  and  religion.  It  is 
said,  also,  that  the  Spaniards  carried  off  his  eighty  women; 
but  of  this  particular  fact  Oviedo,  who  writes  with  the  pa- 
pers of  Vasco  Nunez  before  him,  says  nothing.  He  affirms 
generally,  however,  that  the  Spaniards,  throughout  this 
expedition,  were  not  scrupulous  in  their  dealings  with  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  the  Indians ;  and  adds  that  in  this 
their  commander  set  them  the  example.* 

Having  returned  to  the  village,  where  he  had  left  the 
greater  part  of  his  men,  Vasco  Nunez  resumed  his  homeward 
march.  His  people  were  feeble  and  exhausted  and  several 
of  them  sick,  so  that  some  had  to  be  carried  and  others  led 

•Oviedo,  Hist.  Gen.,  Part  II.,  c.  4.  MS. 


Spaniel?  Voyages  of  Discovery  475 

by  the  arms.  He  himself  was  part  of  the  time  afflicted  by  a 
fever,  and  had  to  be  borne  in  a  hammock  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  Indians. 

Proceeding  thus  slowly  and  toilfully,  they  at  length  ar- 
rived on  the  northern  seacoast,  at  the  territories  of  their  ally, 
Comagre.  The  old  cacique  was  dead  and  had  been  succeeded 
by  his  son,  the  same  intelligent  youth  who  had  first  given  in- 
formation of  the  southern  sea  and  the  kingdom  of  Peru.  The 
young  chief,  who  had  embraced  Christianity,  received  them 
with  great  hospitality,  making  them  presents  of  gold.  Vasco 
Nunez  gave  him  trinkets  in  return  and  a  shirt  and  a  soldier's 
cloak;  with  which,  says  Peter  Martyr,  he  thought  himself 
half  a  god  among  his  naked  countrymen.  After  having 
reposed  for  a  few  days,  Vasco  Nunez  proceeded  to  Ponca, 
where  he  heard  that  a  ship  and  caravel  had  arrived  at  Darien 
from  Hispaniola  with  re-enforcements  and  supplies.  Has- 
tening, therefore,  to  Coyba,  the  territories  of  his  ally,  Careta, 
he  embarked  on  the  18th  of  January,  1514,  with  twenty  of 
his  men,  in  the  brigantine  which  he  had  left  there,  and  ar- 
rived at  Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua  in  the  river  of  Darien  on 
the  following  day.  All  the  inhabitants  came  forth  to  receive 
him ;  and,  when  they  heard  the  news  of  the  great  southern 
sea,  and  of  his  returning  from  its  shores  laden  with  pearls 
and  gold,  there  were  no  bounds  to  their  joy.  He  immediately 
dispatched  the  ship  and  caravel  to  Coyba  for  the  companions 
he  had  left  behind,  who  brought  with  them  the  remaining 
booty,  consisting  of  gold  and  pearls,  mantles,  hammocks,  and 
other  articles  of  cotton,  and  a  great  number  of  captives  of 
both  sexes. '  A  fifth  of  the  spoil  was  set  apart  for  the  crown ; 
the  rest  was  shared,  in  just  proportions,  among  those  who 
had  been  in  the  expedition  and  those  who  had  remained  at 
Darien.  All  were  contented  with  their  allotment,  and  elated 
with  the  prospect  of  still  greater  gain  from  future  enterprises. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  remarkable  expeditions  of  the 
early  discoverers.  The  intrepidity  of  Vasco  Nunez  in  pene- 
trating with  a  handful  of  men  far  into  the  interior  of  a  wild 
and  mountainous  country,  peopled  by  warlike  tribes'  his 


476  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii><$toi} 

skill  in  managing  his  band  of  rough  adventurers,  stimulating 
their  valor,  enforcing  their  obedience,  and  attaching  their 
affections,  show  him  to  have  possessed  great  qualities  as  a 
general.  We  are  told  that  he  was  always  foremost  in  peril 
and  the  last  to  quit  the  field.  He  shared  the  toils  and  dan- 
gers of  the  meanest  of  his  followers,  treating  them  with  frank 
affability;  watching,  fighting,  fasting,  and  laboring  with 
them ;  visiting  and  consoling  such  as  were  sick  or  infirm, 
and  dividing  all  his  gains  with  fairness  and  liberality.  He 
was  chargeable  at  times  with  acts  of  bloodshed  and  injustice, 
but  it  is  probable  that  these  were  often  called  for  as  measures 
of  safety  and  precaution;  he  certainly  offended  less  against 
humanity  than  most  of  the  early  discoverers;  and  the  un- 
bounded amity  and  confidence  reposed  in  him  by  the  natives, 
when  they  became  intimately  acquainted  with  his  character, 
speak  strongly  in  favor  of  his  kind  treatment  of  them. 

The  character  of  Vasco  Nunez  had,  in  fact,  risen  with 
his  circumstances,  and  now  assumed  a  nobleness  and  gran- 
deur from  the  discovery  he  had  made,  and  the  important 
charge  it  had  devolved  upon  him.  He  no  longer  felt  himself 
a  mere  soldier  of  fortune,  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  adventur- 
ers, but  a  great  commander,  conducting  an  immortal  enter- 
prise. "Behold,"  says  old  Peter  Martyr,  "Vasco  Nunez  de 
Balboa  at  once  transformed  from  a  rash  roisterer  to  a  politic 
and  discreet  captain."  And  thus  it  is  that  men  are  often 
made  by  their  fortunes;  that  is  to  say,  their  latent  qualities 
are  brought  out,  and  shaped  and  strengthened  by  events, 
and  by  the  necessity  of  every  exertion  to  cope  with  the  great- 
Bess  of  their  destiny. 


Sparjisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  477 


CHAPTER  FIFTEEN 

TRANSACTIONS  IN  SPAIN — PEDRARIAS   DA  VILA  APPOINTED  TO 

THE  COMMAND  OF  DARIEN — TIDINGS   RECEIVED  IN  SPAIN 

OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  THE   PACIFIC  OCEAN 

VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA  now  flattered  himself  that  he 
had  made  a  discovery  calculated  to  silence  all  his  enemies  at 
court,  and  to  elevate  him  to  the  highest  favor  with  his  sover- 
eign. He  wrote  letters  to  the  king,  giving  a  detail  of  his 
expedition,  and  setting  forth  all  that  he  had  seen  or  heard  of 
this  Southern  Sea,  and  of  the  rich  countries  upon  its  borders. 
Besides  the  royal  fifths  of  the  profits  of  the  expedition,  he 
prepared  a  present  for  the  sovereign,  in  the  name  of  himself 
and  his  companions,  consisting  of  the  largest  and  most 
precious  pearls  they  had  collected.  As  a  trusty  and  intelli- 
gent envoy  to  bear  these  tidings,  he  chose  Pedro  de  Arbo- 
lancha,  an  old  and  tried  friend,  who  had  accompanied  him 
in  his  toils  and  dangers,  and  was  well  acquainted  with  all  his 
transactions. 

The  fate  of  Vasco  Nunez  furnishes  a  striking  instance 
how  prosperity  and  adversity,  how  even  life  and  death  hang 
balanced  upon  a  point  of  time,  and  are  effected  by  the  im- 
provement or  neglect  of  moments.  Unfortunately,  the  ship 
which  was  to  convey  the  messenger  to  Spain  lingered  in  port 
until  the  beginning  of  March ;  a  delay  which  had  a  fatal  in- 
fluence on  the  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez.  It  is  necessary 
here  to  cast  an  eye  back  upon  the  events  which  had  taken 
place  hi  Spain  while  he  was  employed  in  his  conquests  and 
discoveries. 

The  Bachelor  Enciso  had  arrived  in  Castile  full  of  his 
wrongs  and  indignities.  He  had  friends  at  court,  who  aided 
him  in  gaining  a  ready  hearing,  and  he  lost  not  a  moment  in 
availing  himself  of  it.  He  declaimed  eloquently  upon  the 


478  U/'orl^s  of 

alleged  usurpation  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  represented  him  as 
governing  the  colony  by  force  and  fraud.  It  was  in  vain 
that  the  Alcalde  Zamudio,  the  ancient  colleague  and  ,the 
envoy  of  Vasco  Nunez,  attempted  to  speak  in  his  defense; 
he  was  unable  to  cope  with  the  facts  and  arguments  of  the 
Bachelor,  who  was  a  pleader  by  profession,  and  now  pleaded 
his  own  cause.  The  king  determined  to  send  a  new  governor 
to  Darien,  with  power  to  inquire  into  and  remedy  all  abuses. 
For  this  office  he  chose  Don  Pedro  Arias  Davila,  commonly 
called  Pedrarias.*  He  was  a  native  of  Segovia,  who  had 
been  brought  up  in  the  royal  household,  and  had  distinguished 
himself  as  a  brave  soldier,  both  in  the  war  in  Granada  and 
at  the  taking  of  Oran  and  Bugia  in  Africa.  He  possessed 
those  personal  accomplishments  which  captivate  the  soldiery, 
and  was  called  el  Galan,  for  his  gallant  array  and  courtly 
demeanor,  and  el  Justador,  or  the  Tilter,  for  his  dexterity 
in  jousts  and  tournaments.  These,  it  must  be  admitted, 
were  not  the  qualifications  most  adapted  for  the  government 
of  rude  and  factious  colonies  in  a  wilderness ;  but  he  had  an 
all-powerful  friend  in  the  Bishop  Fonseca.  The  bishop  was 
as  thoroughgoing  in  patronage  as  in  persecution.  He  assured 
the  king  that  Pedrarias  had  understanding  equal  to  his  valor; 
that  he  was  as  capable  of  managing  the  affairs  of  peace  as  of 
war,  and  that,  having  been  brought  up  in  the  royal  house- 
hold, his  loyalty  might  be  implicitly  relied  on. 

Scarcely  had  Don  Pedrarias  been  appointed,  when  Cay- 
zedo  and  Colmenares  arrived  on  their  mission  from  Darien, 
to  communicate  the  intelligence  received  from  the  son  of  the 
cacique  Comagre,  of  the  Southern  Sea  beyond  the  mountains, 
and  to  ask  one  thousand  men  to  enable  Vasco  Nunez  to  make 
the  discovery. 

The  avarice  and  ambition  of  Ferdinand  were  inflamed  by 
the  tidings.  He  rewarded  the  bearers  of  the  intelligence, 
and,  after  consulting  with  Bishop  Fonseca,  resolved  to  dis- 
patch immediately  a  powerful  armada,  with  twelve  hundred 

*  By  the  English  historians  he  has  generally  been  called  Davila. 


Spaijisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  479 

men,  under  the  command  of  Pedrarias,  to  accomplish  the 
enterprise. 

Just  about  this  time  the  famous  Gonsalvo  Hernandez  de 
Cordova,  commonly  called  the  Great  Captain,  was  preparing 
to  return  to  Naples,  where  the  allies  of  Spain  had  experi- 
enced a  signal  defeat,  and  had  craved  the  assistance  of  this 
renowned  general  to  retrieve  their  fortunes.  The  chivalry  of 
Spain  thronged  to  enlist  under  the  banner  of  Gonsalvo.  The 
Spanish  nobles,  with  their  accustomed  prodigality,  sold  or 
mortgaged  their  estates  to  buy  gorgeous  armor,  silks,  bro- 
cades, and  other  articles  of  martial  pomp  and  luxury,  that 
they  might  figure,  with  becoming  magnificence,  in  the  cam- 
paigns of  Italy.  The  armament  was  on  the  point  of  sailing 
for  Naples  with  this  host  of  proud  and  gallant  spirits,  when 
the  jealous  mind  of  Ferdinand  took  offense  at  the  enthusiasm 
thus  shown  toward  his  general,  and  he  abruptly  counter- 
manded the  expedition.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  were  over- 
whelmed with  disappointment  at  having  their  dreams  of 
glory  thus  suddenly  dispelled ;  when,  as  if  to  console  them, 
the  enterprise  of  Pedrarias  was  set  on  foot,  and  opened  a 
different  career  of  adventure.  The  very  idea  of  an  unknown 
sea  and  splendid  empire,  where  never  European  ship  had 
sailed  or  foot  had  trodden,  broke  upon  the  imagination  with 
the  vague  wonders  of  an  Arabian  tale.  Even  the  countries 
already  known,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  settlement  of  Darien, 
were  described  in  the  usual  terms  of  exaggeration.  Gold 
was  said  to  lie  on  the  surface  of  the  ground,  or  to  be  gathered 
with  nets  out  of  the  brooks  and  rivers ;  insomuch  that  the 
region  hitherto  called  Terra  Firma  now  received  the  pompous 
and  delusive  appellation  of  Castilla  del  Oro,  or  Golden 
Castile. 

Excited  by  these  reports,  many  of  the  youthful  cavaliers, 
who  had  prepared  for  the  Italian  campaign,  now  offered 
themselves  as  volunteers  to  Don  Pedrarias.  He  accepted 
their  services  and  appointed  Seville  as  the  place  of  assem- 
blage. The  streets  of  that  ancient  city  soon  swarmed  with 
young  and  noble  cavaliers  splendidly  arrayed,  full  of  spirits, 


of 

and  eager  for  the  sailing  of  the  Indian  armada.  Pedrarias} 
on  his  arrival  at  Seville,  made  a  general  review  of  his  forces, 
and  was  embarrassed  to  find  that  the  number  amounted  to 
three  thousand.  He  had  been  limited  hi  his  first  armament 
to  twelve  hundred;  on  representing  the  nature  of  the  case, 
however,  the  number  was  extended  to  fifteen  hundred ;  but 
through  influence,  entreaty,  and  stratagem,  upward  of  two 
thousand  eventually  embarked.*  Happy  did  he  think  him- 
self who  could  hi  any  manner,  and  by  any  means,  get  ad- 
mitted on  board  of  the  squadron.  Nor  was  this  eagerness 
for  the  enterprise  confined  merely  to  young  and  buoyant  and 
ambitious  adventurers;  we  are  told  that  there  were  many 
covetous  old  men,  who  offered  to  go  at  their  own  expense, 
without  seeking  any  pay  from  the  king.  Thus  every  eye 
was  turned  with  desire  to  this  squadron  of  modern  Argo- 
nauts, as  it  lay  anchored  on  the  bosom  of  the  Guadalquivir. 

The  pay  and  appointments  of  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  were 
on  the  most  liberal  scale,  and  no  expense  was  spared  in 
fitting  out  the  armament;  for  the  objects  of  the  expedition 
were  both  colonization  and  conquest.  Artillery  and  powder 
were  procured  from  Malaga.  Besides  the  usual  weapons, 
such  as  muskets,  crossbows,  swords,  pikes,  lances,  and 
Neapolitan  targets,  there  was  armor  devised  of  quilted  cotton, 
as  being  light  and  better  adapted  to  the  climate,  and  suffi- 
ciently proof  against  the  weapons  of  the  Indians ;  and  wooden 
bucklers  from  the  Canary  Islands,  to  ward  off  the  poisoned 
arrows  of  the  Caribs. 

Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua  was,  by  royal  ordinance,  ele- 
vated into  the  metropolitan  city  of  Golden  Castile,  and  a 
Franciscan  friar,  named  Juan  de  Quevedo,  was  appointed  as 
bishop,  with  powers  to  decide  in  all  cases  of  conscience.  A 
number  of  friars  were  nominated  to  accompany  him,  and  he 
was  provided  with  the  necessary  furniture  and  vessels  for  a 
chapel. 

Among  the  various  regulations  made  for  the  good  of  thf 
•^* 

*Oviedo,  1.  ii.  c.  7,  MS 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  481 

infant  colony,  it  was  ordained  that  no  lawyers  should  be 
admitted  there,  it  having  been  found  at  Hispaniola  and  else- 
where that  they  were  detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  the  settle- 
ments, by  fomenting  disputes  and  litigations.  The  judicial 
affairs  were  to  be  entirely  confided  to  the  Licentiate  Gaspar 
de  Espinosa,  who  was  to  officiate  as  alcalde  mayor  or  chief 
judge. 

Don  Pedrarias  had  intended  to  leave  his  wife  in  Spain. 
Her  name  was  Dona  Isabella  de  Bobadilla ;  she  was  niece  to 
the  Marchioness  de  Moya,  a  great  favorite  of  the  late  Queen 
Isabella,  who  had  been  instrumental  in  persuading  her  royal 
mistress  to  patronize  Columbus.*  Her  niece  partook  of  her 
high  and  generous  nature.  She  refused  to  remain  behind  in 
selfish  security,  but  declared  that  she  would  accompany  her 
husband  in  every  peril,  whether  by  sea  or  land.  This  self- 
devotion  is  the  more  remarkable  when  it  is  considered  that 
she  was  past  the  romantic  period  of  youth ;  and  that  she  had 
a  family  of  four  sons  and  four  daughters,  whom  she  left 
behind  her  in  Spain. 

Don  Pedrarias  was  instructed  to  use  great  indulgence 
toward  the  people  of  Darien  who  had  been  the  followers  of 
Nicuesa,  and  to  remit  the  royal  tithe  of  all  the  gold  they 
might  have  collected  previous  to  his  arrival.  Toward  Vasco 
Nunez  de  Balboa  alone  the  royal  countenance  was  stern  and 
severe.  Pedrarias  was  to  depose  him  from  his  assumed 
authority,  and  to  call  him  to  strict  account  before  the  alcalde 
mayor,  Gaspar  de  Espinosa,  for  his  treatment  of  the  Bachelor 
Enciso. 

The  splendid  fleet,  consisting  of  fifteen  sail,  weighed 
anchor  at  St.  Lucar  on  the  12th  of  April,  1514,  and  swept 
proudly  out  of  the  Guadalquivir,  thronged  with  the  chival- 
rous adventurers  for  Golden  Castile.  But  a  short  time  had 
elapsed  after  its  departure  when  Pedro  Arbolancho  arrived 

*  This  was  the  same  Marchioness  de  Moya  who,  during  the  war  of 
Granada,  while  the  court  and  royal  army  were  encamped  before  Malaga^ 
was  mistaken  for  the  queen  by  a  Moorish  fanatic,  and  had  nearly  fallen 
beneath  his  dagger. 

*  *  *  U  VOL.  V. 


482  U/orks  of  U/asbip^toi? 

with  the  tardy  mission  of  Vasco  Nunez.  Had  he  arrived  a 
few  days  sooner,  how  different  might  have  been  the  fortunes 
of  his  friend ! 

He  was  immediately  admitted  to  the  royal  presence, 
where  he  announced  the  adventurous  and  successful  expedi- 
tion of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  laid  before  the  king  the  pearls  and 
golden  ornaments  which  he  had  brought  as  the  first  fruits  of 
the  discovery.  King  Ferdinand  listened  with  charmed  atten- 
tion to  this  tale  of  unknown  seas  and  wealthy  realms  added 
to  his  empire.  It  filled,  in  fact,  the  imaginations  of  the  most 
sage  and  learned  with  golden  dreams,  and  anticipations  of 
unbounded  riches.  Old  Peter  Martyr,  who  received  letters 
from  his  friends  in  Darien,  and  communicated  by  word  of 
mouth  with  those  who  came  from  thence,  writes  to  Leo  the 
Tenth  in  exulting  terms  of  this  event.  "Spain,"  says  he, 
"will  hereafter  be  able  to  satisfy  with  pearls  the  greedy 
appetite  of  such  as  in  wanton  pleasures  are  like  unto  Cleo- 
patra and  JEsopus ;  so  that  henceforth  we  shall  neither  envy 
nor  reverence  the  nice  f  ruitf  ulness  of  Trapoban  or  the  Red  Sea. 
The  Spaniards  will  not  need  hereafter  to  mine  and  dig  far 
into  the  earth,  nor  to  cut  asunder  mountains  in  quest  of  gold, 
but  will  find  it  plentifully,  in  a  manner,  on  the  upper  crust 
of  the  earth,  or  in  the  sands  of  rivers  dried  up  by  the  heats 
of  summer.  Certainly  the  reverend  antiquity  obtained  not 
so  great  a  benefit  of  nature,  nor  even  aspired  to  the  knowl- 
edge thereof,  since  never  man  before,  from  the  known  world, 
penetrated  to  these  unknown  regions.'" 

The  tidings  of  this  discovery  at  once  made  all  Spain  re- 
sound with  the  praises  of  Vasco  Nunez;  and,  from  being 
considered  a  lawless  and  desperate  adventurer,  he  was  lauded 
to  the  skies  as  a  worthy  successor  to  Columbus.  The  king 
repented  of  the  harshness  of  his  late  measures  toward  him, 
and  ordered  the  Bishop  Fonseca  to  devise  some  mode  of 
rewarding  his  transcendent  services. 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  iii.  chap.  3.    Lok's  translation. 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Diseouery  483 


CHAPTER  SIXTEEN 

ABRIVAL  AND  GRAND  ENTRY  OP  DON  PEDRARIAS  DAVILA 
INTO  DARIBN. 

WHILE  honors  and  rewards  were  preparing  in  Europe 
for  Vasco  Nunez,  that  indefatigable  commander,  inspired  by 
his  fortunes  with  redoubled  zeal  and  loftier  ambition,  was 
exercising  the  paternal  forethought  and  discretion  of  a  patri- 
otic governor  over  the  country  subjected  to  his  rule.  His 
most  strenuous  exertions  were  directed  to  bring  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Darien  into  such  a  state  of  cultivation  as  might 
render  the  settlement  independent  of  Europe  for  supplies. 
The  town  was  situated  on  the  banks  of  a  river,  and  con- 
tained upward  of  two  hundred  houses  and  cabins.  Its  popu- 
lation amounted  to  five  hundred  and  fifteen  Europeans,  all 
men,  and  fifteen  hundred  Indians,  male  and  female.  Or 
chards  and  gardens  had  been  laid  out,  where  European  aa 
well  as  native  fruits  and  vegetables  were  cultivated,  and 
already  gave  promise  of  future  abundance.  Vasco  Nunez 
devised  all  kinds  of  means  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  his  people. 
On  holidays  they  had  their  favorite  national  sports  and 
games,  and  particularly  tilting  matches,  of  which  chivalrous 
amusement  the  Spaniards  in  those  days  were  extravagantly 
fond.  Sometimes  he  gratified  their  restless  and  roving  habits 
by  sending  them  on  expeditions  to  various  parts  of  the 
country,  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  its  resources,  and  to 
strengthen  his  sway  over  the  natives.  He  was  so  successful 
in  securing  the  amity  or  exciting  the  awe  of  the  Indian  tribes, 
that  a  Spaniard  might  go  singly  about  the  land  in  perfec* 
safety ;  while  his  own  followers  were  zealous  in  their  devo- 
tion to  him,  both  from  admiration  of  his  past  exploits  and 
from  hopes  of  soon  being  led  by  him  to  new  discoveries  and 
conquests.  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  letter  to  Leo  the  Ten^h, 


484  U/or^s  of  U/a»bio$toi) 

speaks  in  high  terms  of  these  "old  soldiers  of  Darien,"  the 
remnants  of  those  well-tried  adventurers  who  had  followed 
the  fortunes  of  Ojeda,  Nicuesa  and  Vasco  Nunez.  "They 
were  hardened,"  says  he,  "to  abide  all  sorrows,  and  were 
exceedingly  tolerant  of  labor,  heat,  hunger,  and  watching, 
insomuch  that  they  merrily  make  their  boast  that  they  have 
observed  a  longer  and  sharper  Lent  than  ever  your  Holiness 
enjoined,  since,  for  the  space  of  four  years,  their  food  has 
been  herbs  and  fruits,  with  now  and  then  fish,  and  very 
seldom  flesh."  * 

Such  were  the  hardy  and  well-seasoned  veterans  that 
were  under  the  sway  of  Vasco  Nunez ;  and  the  colony  gave 
signs  of  rising  in  prosperity  under  his  active  and  fostering 
management,  when,  in  the  month  of  June,  the  fleet  of  Don 
Pedrarias  Davila  arrived  in  the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 

The  Spanish  cavaliers  who  accompanied  the  new  governor 
were  eager  to  get  on  shore,  and  to  behold  the  anticipated 
wonders  of  the  land;  but  Pedrarias,  knowing  the  resolute 
character  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  the  devotion  of  his  followers, 
apprehended  some  difficulty  in  getting  possession  of  the  col- 
ony. Anchoring,  therefore,  about  a  league  and  a  half  from 
the  settlement,  he  sent  a  messenger  on  shore  to  announce  his 
arrival.  The  envoy,  having  heard  so  much  in  Spain  of  the 
prowess  and  exploits  of  Vasco  Nunez  and  the  riches  of  Golden 
Castile,  expected,  no  doubt,  to  find  a  blustering  warrior, 
maintaining  barbaric  state  in  the  government  which  he  had 
usurped.  Great  was  his  astonishment,  therefore,  to  find  this 
redoubtable  hero  a  plain,  unassuming  man,  clad  in  a  cotton 
frock  and  drawers,  and  hempen  sandals,  directing  and  aid- 
ing the  labor  of  several  Indians  who  were  thatching  a  cottage 
in  which  he  resided. 

The  messenger  approached  him  respectfully,  and  an- 
nounced the  arrival  of  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  as  governor  of 
the  country. 

Whatever  Vasco  Nunez  may  have  felt  at  this  intelligence, 

•P.  Martyr,  decad.  iii.  c.  3.    Lok's  translation. 


Voyages  of  Discovery  485 

fie  suppressed  his  emotions,  and  answered  the  messenger 
with  great  discretion:  "Tell  Don  Pedrarids  Davila,"  said 
he,  "that  he  is  welcome,  that  I  congratulate  him  on  his  safe 
arrival,  and  am  ready,  with  all  who  are  here,  to  obey  his 
orders." 

The  little  community  of  rough  and  daring  adventurers 
was  immediately  in  an  uproar  when  they  found  a  new  gov- 
ernor had  arrived.  Some  of  the  most  zealous  adherents  of 
Vasco  Nunez  were  disposed  to  sally  forth,  sword  in  hand, 
and  repel  the  intruder;  but  they  were  restrained  by  their 
more  considerate  chieftain,  who  prepared  to  receive  the  new 
governor  with  all  due  submission. 

Pedrarias  disembarked  on  the  thirtieth  of  June,  accom- 
panied by  his  heroic  wife,  Dona  Isabella;  who,  according  to 
old  Peter  Martyr,  had  sustained  the  roarings  and  rages  of 
the  ocean  with  no  less  stout  courage  than  either  her  husband 
or  even  the  mariners  who  had  been  brought  up  among  the 
surges  of  the  sea, 

Pedrarias  set  out  for  the  embryo  city  at  the  head  of  two 
thousand  men,  all  well  armed.  He  led  his  wife  by  the  hand, 
and  on  the  other  side  of  him  was  the  Bishop  of  Darien  in  his 
robes;  while  a  brilliant  train  of  youthful  cavaliers,  in  glitter- 
ing armor  and  brocade,  formed  a  kind  of  bodyguard. 

All  this  pomp  and  splendor  formed  a  striking  contrast 
with  the  humble  state  of  Vasco  Nunez,  who  came  forth  un- 
armed, in  simple  attire,  accompanied  by  his  councilors  and 
a  handful  of  the  "old  soldiers  of  Darien,'*  scarred  and  bat- 
tered, and  grown  half  wild  in  Indian  warfare,  but  without 
weapons,  and  in  garments  much  the  worse  for  wear. 

Vasco  Nunez  saluted  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  with  profound 
reverence,  and  promised  him  implicit  obedience,  both  in  his 
own  name  and  in  the  name  of  the  community.  Having 
entered  the  town,  he  conducted  his  distinguished  guests  to 
his  straw-thatched  habitation,  where  he  had  caused  a  repast 
to  be  prepared  of  such  cheer  as  his  means  afforded,  consisting 
of  roots  and  fruits,  maize  and  cassava  bread,  with  no  other 
beverage  than  water  from  the  river;  a  sorry  palace  and  a 


of 

meager  banquet  in  the  eyes  of  the  gay  cavaliers,  who  had 
anticipated  far  other  things  from  the  usurper  of  Golden 
Castile.  Vasco  Nunez,  however,  acquitted  himself  in  his 
humble  wigwam  with  the  courtesy  and  hospitality  of  a 
prince,  and  showed  that  the  dignity  of  an  entertainment 
depends  more  upon  the  giver  than  the  feast.  In  the  mean- 
time a  plentiful  supply  of  European  provisions  was  landed 
from  the  fleet,  and  a  temporary  abundance  was  diffused 
through  the  colony. 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

PEEPIDIOUS  CONDUCT  OP  DON   PEDRABIAS  TOWAKD 
VASCO  NUNEZ 

ON  the  day  after  his  entrance  into  Darien,  Don  Pedrarias 
held  a  private  conference  with  Vasco  Nunez  in  presence  of 
the  historian  Oviedo,  who  had  come  out  from  Spam  as  the 
public  notary  of  the  colony.  The  governor  commenced  by 
assuring  him  that  he  was  instructed  by  the  king  to  treat  him 
with  great  favor  and  distinction,  to  consult  him  about  the 
affairs  of  the  colony,  and  to  apply  to  him  for  information 
relative  to  the  surrounding  country.  At  the  same  time  he 
professed  the  most  amicable  f eelings  on  his  own  part,  and  an 
intention  to  be  guided  by  his  counsels  in  all  public  measures. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  of  a  frank,  confiding  nature,  and  was 
so  captivated  by  this  unexpected  courtesy  and  kindness  that 
he  threw  off  all  caution  and  reserve,  and  opened  his  whole 
BOU!  to  the  politic  courtier.  Pedrarias  availed  himself  of  this 
communicative  mood  to  draw  from  him  a  minute  and  able 
statement  in  writing,  detailing  the  circumstances  of  the 
colony,  and  the  information  collected  respecting  various 
parts  of  the  country ;  the  route  by  which  he  had  traversed 
the  mountains;  his  discovery  of  the  South  Sea;  the  situation 
and  reputed  wealth  of  the  Pearl  Islands;  the  rivers  and 
ravines  most  productive  of  gold ;  together  with  the  names 


Spai)i8l?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  487 

and  territories  of  the  various  caciques  with  whom  he  had 
made  treaties. 

When  Pedrarias  had  thus  beguiled  the  unsuspecting  sol- 
dier of  all  the  information  necessary  for  his  purposes,  he 
dropped  the  mask,  and  within  a  few  days  proclaimed  a 
judicial  scrutiny  into  the  conduct  of  Vasco  Nunez  and  his 
officers.  It  was  to  be  conducted  by  the  Licentiate  Gaspar 
de  Espinosa,  who  had  come  out  as  alcalde  mayor,  or  chief 
judge.  The  licentiate  was  an  inexperienced  lawyer,  having 
but  recently  left  the  university  of  Salamanca.  He  appears 
to  have  been  somewhat  flexible  in  his  opinions,  and  prone  to 
be  guided  or  governed  by  others.  At  the  outset  of  his  career 
he  was  much  under  the  influence  of  Quevedo,  the  Bishop  of 
Darien.  Now,  as  Vasco  Nunez  knew  the  importance  of  this 
prelate  in  the  colony,  he  had  taken  care  to  secure  him  to  his 
interests  by  paying  him  the  most  profound  deference  and 
respect,  and  by  giving  him  a  share  in  his  agricultural  enter- 
prises and  his  schemes  of  traffic.  In  fact,  the  good  bishop 
looked  upon  him  as  one  eminently  calculated  to  promote  his 
temporal  prosperity,  to  which  he  was  by  no  means  insensible. 
Under  the  influence  of  the  prelate,  therefore,  the  alcalde 
commenced  his  investigation  in  the  most  favorable  manner. 
He  went  largely  into  an  examination  of  the  discoveries  of 
Vasco  Nunez,  and  of  the  nature  and  extent  of  his  various 
services.  The  governor  was  alarmed  at  the  course  which 
the  inquiry  was  taking.  If  thus  conducted,  it  would  but 
serve  to  illustrate  the  merits  and  elevate  the  reputation  of 
the  man  whom  it  was  his  interest  and  intent  to  ruin.  To 
counteract  it  he  immediately  set  on  foot  a  secret  and  invidi- 
ous course  of  interrogatories  of  the  followers  of  Nicuesa  and 
Ojeda,  to  draw  from  them  testimony  which  might  suppcrt 
the  charge  against  Vasco  Nunez  of  usurpation  and  tyrannical 
abuse  of  power.  The  bishop  and  the  alcalde  received  in- 
formation of  this  inquisition,  carried  on  thus  secretly,  and 
without  their  sanction.  They  remonstrated  warmly  against 
it,  as  an  infringement  of  their  rights,  being  coadjutors  in  the 
government,  and  they  spurned  the  testimony  of  the  follower* 


488  U/ort{8  of 

of  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa,  as  being  dictated  and  discolored  by 
ancient  enmity.  Vasco  Nunez  was,  therefore,  acquitted  by 
them  of  the  criminal  charges  made  against  him,  though  he 
remained  involved  in  difficulties  from  the  suits  brought 
against  him  by  individuals,  for  losses  and  damages  occasioned 
by  his  measures. 

Pedrarias  was  incensed  at  this  acquittal,  and  insisted 
upon  the  guilt  of  Vasco  Nunez,  which  he  pretended  to  have 
established  to  his  conviction  by  his  secret  investigations; 
and  he  even  determined  to  send  him  in  chains  to  Spain,  to 
be  tried  for  the  death  of  Nicuesa,  and  for  other  imputed 
offenses. 

It  was  not  the  inclination  or  the  interest  of  the  bishop 
that  Vasco  Nunez  should  leave  the  colony ;  he  therefore  man- 
aged to  awaken  the  jealous  apprehensions  of  the  governor  as 
to  the  effect  of  his  proposed  measure.  He  intimated  that  the 
arrival  of  Vasco  Nunez  hi  Spain  would  be  signalized  by 
triumph  rather  than  disgrace.  By  that  time  his  grand  dis- 
coveries would  be  blazoned  to  the  World,  and  would  atone 
for  all  his  faults.  He  would  be  received  with  enthusiasm  by 
the  nation,  with  favor  by  the  king,  and  would  probably  be 
sent  back  to  the  colony  clothed  with  new  dignity  and  power. 

Pedrarias  was  placed  in  a  perplexing  dilemma  by  these 
suggestions;  his  violent  proceedings  against  Vasco  Nunez 
were  also  in  some  measure  restrained  by  the  influence  of  his 
wife,  Dona  Isabel  de  Bobadilla,  who  felt  a  great  respect  and 
sympathy  for  the  discoverer.  In  his  perplexity,  the  wily 
governor  adopted  a  middle  course.  He  resolved  to  detain 
Vasco  Nunez  at  Darien  under  a  cloud  of  imputation,  which 
would  gradually  impair  his  popularity;  while  his  patience 
and  means  would  be  silently  consumed  by  protracted  and 
expensive  litigation.  In  the  meantime,  however,  the  property 
which  had  been  sequestrated  was  restored  to  him. 

While  Pedrarias  treated  Vasco  Nunez  with  this  severity, 
he  failed  not  to  avail  himself  of  the  plans  of  that  able  com- 
mander. The  first  of  these  was  to  establish  a  line  of  posts 
across  the  mountains  between  Darien  and  the  South  Sea.  It 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  489 

was  his  eager  desire  to  execute  this  before  any  order  should 
arrive  from  the  king  in  favor  of  his  predecessor,  in  order  that 
he  might  have  the  credit  of  having  colonized  the  coast,  and 
Vasco  Nunez  merely  that  of  having  discovered  and  visited 
it.*  Before  he  could  complete  these  arrangements,  however, 
unlooked-for  calamities  fell  upon  the  settlement,  that  for  a 
time  interrupted  every  project  and  made  every  one  turn  his 
thoughts  merely  to  his  own  security. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 

CALAMITIES   OF  THE   SPANISH   CAVALIERS   AT  DARIEN 

THE  town  of  Darien  was  situated  in  a  deep  valley  sur- 
rounded by  lofty  hills,  which,  while  they  kept  off  the  breezes 
so  grateful  in  a  sultry  climate,  reflected  and  concentrated  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  insomuch  that  at  noontide  the  heat  was  in- 
supportable ;  the  river  which  passed  it  was  shallow,  with  a 
muddy  channel  and  bordered  by  marshes;  overhanging  for- 
ests added  to  the  general  humidity,  and  the  very  soil  on 
which  the  town  was  built  was  of  such  a  nature  that  on  dig- 
ging to  the  depth  of  a  foot  there  would  ooze  forth  brackish 
water,  f 

It  is  not  matter  of  surprise  that  a  situation  of  this  kind, 
in  a  tropical  climate,  should  be  fatal  to  the  health  of  Eu- 
ropeans. Many  of  those  who  had  recently  arrived  were 
swept  off  speedily;  Pedrarias  himself  fell  sick  and  was  re- 
moved, with  most  of  his  people,  to  a  healthier  spot  on  the 
river  Corobari;  the  malady,  however,  continued  to  increase. 
The  provisions  which  had  been  brought  out  in  the  ships  had 
been  partly  damaged  by  the  sea,  the  residue  grew  scanty, 
and  the  people  were  put  upon  short  allowance ;  the  debility 
thus  produced  increased  the  ravages  of  the  disease;  at  length 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Ind.,  Part  II.  c.  8.         f  P.  Martyr,  decad.  iii.  c.  6. 


490  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir?$toi7  Irulr>$ 

the  provisions  were  exhausted  and  the  horrors  of  absolute 
famine  ensued. 

Every  one  was  more  or  less  affected  by  these  calamities; 
even  the  veterans  of  the  colony  quailed  beneath  them ;  but 
to  none  were  they  more  fatal  than  to  the  crowd  of  youthful 
cavaliers  who  had  once  glittered  so  gayly  about  the  streets  of 
Seville,  and  had  come  out  to  the  New  World  elated  with  the 
most  sanguine  expectations.  From  the  very  moment  of  their 
landing  they  had  been  disheartened  at  the  savage  scenes 
around  them,  and  disgusted  with  the  squalid  life  they  were 
doomed  to  lead.  They  shrunk  with  disdain  from  the  labors 
with  which  alone  wealth  was  to  be  procured  in  this  land  of 
gold  and  pearls,  and  were  impatient  of  the  humble  exertions 
necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  existence.  As  the  famine 
increased,  their  case  became  desperate ;  for  they  were  unable 
to  help  themselves,  and  their  rank  and  dignity  commanded 
neither  deference  nor  aid  at  a  time  when  common  misery 
made  every  one  selfish.  Many  of  them  who  had  mortgaged 
estates  in  Spain  to  fit  themselves  out  sumptuously  for  their 
Italian  campaign  now  perished  for  lack  of  food.  Some 
would  be  seen  bartering  a  robe  of  crimson  silk,  or  some  gar- 
ment of  rich  brocade,  for  a  pound  of  Indian  bread  or  Eu- 
ropean biscuit;  others  sought  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
hunger  with  the  herbs  and  roots  of  the  field,  and  one  of  the 
principal  cavaliers  absolutely  expired  of  hunger  in  the  public 
streets. 

In  this  wretched  way,  and  in  the  short  space  of  one  month, 
perished  seven  hundred  of  the  little  army  of  youthful  and 
buoyant  spirits  who  had  embarked  with  Pedrarias.  The 
bodies  of  some  remained  for  a  day  or  two  without  sepulcher, 
their  friends  not  having  sufficient  strength  to  bury  them. 
Unable  to  remedy  the  evil,  Pedrarias  gave  permission  for  his 
men  to  flee  from  it.  A  shipload  of  starving  adventurers 
departed  for  Cuba,  where  some  of  them  joined  the  standard 
of  Diego  Velasquez,  who  was  colonizing  that  island ;  others 
made  their  way  back  to  Spain,  where  they  arrived  broken  in 
health,  in  spirits,  and  in  fortune. 


Spaijisf?  Voyages  of  Discovery  491 

CHAPTER  NINETEEN 

FRUITLESS  EXPEDITION   OF   PEDKAKIAS 

THE  departure  of  so  many  hungry  mouths  was  some 
temporary  relief  to  the  colony ;  and  Pedrarias,  having  recov- 
ered from  his  malady,  bestirred  himself  to  send  expeditions 
in  various  directions  for  the  purpose  of  foraging  the  country 
and  collecting  the  treasure. 

These  expeditions,  however,  were  intrusted  to  his  own 
favorites  and  partisans;  while  Vasco  Nunez,  the  man  most 
competent  to  carry  them  into  effect,  remained  idle  and  neg- 
lected. A  judicial  inquiry,  tardily  carried  on,  overshad- 
owed him,  and  though  it  substantiated  nothing,  served  to 
embarrass  his  actions,  to  cool  his  friends,  and  to  give  him 
the  air  of  a  public  delinquent.  Indeed,  to  the  other  evils  of 
the  colony  was  now  added  that  of  excessive  litigation,  arising 
out  of  the  disputes  concerning  the  government  of  Vasco 
Nunez,  and  which  increased  to  such  a  degree  that,  according 
to  the  report  of  the  Alcalde  Espinosa,  if  the  lawsuits  should 
be  divided  among  the  people,  at  least  forty  would  fall  to  each 
man's  share.*  This  too  was  in  a  colony  into  which  the  gov- 
ernment had  commanded  that  no  lawyer  should  be  admitted! 

Wearied  and  irritated  by  the  check  which  had  been  given 
to  his  favorite  enterprises,  and  confident  of  the  ultimate 
approbation  of  the  king,  Vasco  Nunez  now  determined  to 
take  his  fortunes  in  his  own  hands,  and  to  prosecute  in  secret 
his  grand  project  of  exploring  the  regions  beyond  the  moun- 
tains. For  this  purpose  he  privately  dispatched  one  Andres 
Garabito  to  Cuba  to  enlist  men  and  to  make  the  requisite 
provisions  for  an  expedition  across  the  isthmus,  from  Nombre 
de  Dios,  and  for  the  founding  a  colony  on  the  shores  of  the 

*Herrera,  decad.  ii.  1.  i.  c.  1. 


492  ll/or^s  of  U/asl?ir)$toi)  Iruir}$ 

Southern  Ocean,  from  whence  he  proposed  to  extend  his 
discoveries  by  sea  and  land. 

While  Vasco  Nunez  awaited  the  return  of  Garabito,  he 
had  the  mortification  of  beholding  various  of  his  colonizing 
plans  pursued  and  marred  by  Pedrarias.  Among  other  en- 
terprises, the  governor  dispatched  his  lieutenant-general, 
Juan  de  Ayora,  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  men,  to  visit  the 
provinces  of  those  caciques  with  whom  Vasco  Nunez  had 
sojourned  and  made  treaties  on  his  expedition  to  the  Southern 
Sea.  Ayora  partook  of  the  rash  and  domineering  spirit  of 
Pedrarias,  and  harassed  and  devastated  the  countries  which 
he  pretended  to  explore.  He  was  received  with  amity  and 
confidence  by  various  caciques  who  had  formed  treaties  with 
Vasco  Nunez;  but  he  repaid  their  hospitality  with  the  basest 
ingratitude,  seizing  upon  their  property,  taking  from  them 
their  wives  and  daughters,  and  often  torturing  them  to  make 
them  reveal  their  hidden  or  supposed  treasures.  Among 
those  treated  with  this  perfidy  we  grieve  to  enumerate  the 
youthful  cacique  who  first  gave  Vasco  Nunez  information  of 
the  sea  beyond  the  mountains. 

The  enormities  of  Ayora  and  of  other  captains  of  Pedrarias 
produced  the  usual  effect ;  the  natives  were  roused  to  des- 
perate resistance;  caciques  who  had  been  faithful  friends 
were  converted  into  furious  enemies,  and  the  expedition 
ended  in  disappointment  and  disaster^ 

The  adherents  of  Vasco  Nunez  did  not  fail  to  contrast 
these  disastrous  enterprises  with  those  which  had  been  con- 
ducted with  so  much  glory  and  advantage  by  their  favorite 
commander;  and  their  sneers  and  reproaches  had  such  an 
effect  upon  the  jealous  and  irritable  disposition  of  Pedrarias 
that  he  determined  to  employ  their  idol  in  a  service  that 
would  be  likely  to  be  attended  with  defeat  and  to  impair  his 
popularity.  None  seemed  more  fitting  for  the  purpose  than  an 
expedition  to  Dobayba,  where  he  had  once  already  attempted 
in  vain  to  penetrate,  and  where  so  many  of  his  followers 
had  fallen  victims  to  the  stratagems  and  assaults  of  the 
natives. 


Spapisl?  Ubya^es  of  Discovery  493 


CHAPTER  TWENTY 

SECOND    EXPEDITION  OP  VASCO    NUNEZ    IN    QUEST    OF    THES 
GOLDEN  TEMPLE  OF  DOBAYBA 

THE  rich  mines  of  Dobayba  and  the  treasures  of  its  golden 
temple  had  continued  to  form  a  favorite  theme  with,  the 
Spanish  adventurers.  It  was  ascertained  that  Vasco  Nunez 
had  stopped  short  of  the  wealthy  region  on  his  former  expe- 
dition, and  had  mistaken  a  frontier  village  for  the  residence 
of  the  cacique.  The  enterprise  of  the  temple  was  therefore 
still  to  be  achieved;  and  it  was  solicited  by  several  of  the 
cavaliers  in  the  train  of  Pedrarias  with  all  the  chivalrous 
ardor  of  that  romantic  age.  Indeed,  common  report  had 
invested  the  enterprise  with  difficulties  and  danger  sufficient 
to  stimulate  the  ambition  of  the  keenest  seeker  of  adventure. 
The  savages  who  inhabited  that  part  of  the  country  were 
courageous  and  adroit.  They  fought  by  water  as  well  as  by 
land,  forming  ambuscades  with  their  canoes  in  the  bays  and 
rivers.  The  country  was  intersected  by  dreary  fens  and 
morasses,  infested  by  all  kinds  of  reptiles.  Clouds  of  gnats 
and  mosquitoes  filled  the  air;  there  were  large  bats  also, 
supposed  to  have  the  baneful  properties  of  the  vampire; 
alligators  lurked  in  the  waters,  and  the  gloomy  recesses  of 
the  fens  were  said  to  be  the  dens  of  dragons!  * 

Besides  these  objects  of  terror,  both  true  and  fabulous, 
the  old  historian,  Peter  Martyr,  makes  mention  of  another 
monstrous  animal  said  to  infest  this  golden  region,  and  which 
deserves  to  be  cited,  as  showing  the  imaginary  dangers  with 
which  the  active  minds  of  the  discoverers  peopled  the  unex- 
plored wilderness  around  them. 

According  to  the  tales  of  the  Indians,  there  had  occurred 

*P,  Martyr. 


494  Worlds  of  U7a8l?ir><$t09 

shortly  before  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards  a  violent,  tempest, 
or  rather  hurricane,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Dobayba,  which 
demolished  houses,  tore  up  trees  by  the  roots,  and  laid  waste 
whole  forests.  When  the  tempest  had  subsided,  and  the 
affrighted  inhabitants  ventured  to  look  abroad,  they  found 
that  two  monstrous  animals  had  been  brought  into  the  coun- 
try by  the  hurricane.  According  to  their  accounts,  they 
were  not  unlike  the  ancient  harpies,  and  one  being  smaller 
than  the  other  was  supposed  to  be  its  young.  They  had  the 
faces  of  women,  with  the  claws  and  wings  of  eagles,  and 
were  of  such  prodigious  size  that  the  very  boughs  of  the  trees 
on  which  they  alighted  broke  beneath  them.  They  would 
sweep  down  and  carry  off  a  man  as  a  hawk  would  bear  off 
a  chicken,  flying  with  him  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
where  they  would  tear  him  in  pieces  and  devour  him,,  For 
some  time  they  were  the  scourge  and  terror  of  the  land,  until 
the  Indians  succeeded  in  killing  the  old  one  by  stratagem, 
and,  hanging  her  on  their  long  spears,  bore  her  through  all 
the  towns  to  assuage  the  alarm  of  the  inhabitants.  The 
younger  harpy,  says  the  Indian  tradition,  was  never  seen 
afterward.* 

Such  were  some  of  the  perils,  true  and  fabulous,  with 
which  the  land  of  Dobayba  was  said  to  abound;  and,  in  fact, 
the  very  Indians  had  such  a  dread  of  its  dark  and  dismal 
morasses  that  in  their  journeyings  they  carefully  avoided 
them,  preferring  the  circuitous  and  rugged  paths  of  the 
mountains. 

Several  of  the  youthful  cavaliers,  as  has  been  observed, 
were  stimulated,  rather  than  deterred,  by  these  dangers,  and 
contended  for  the  honor  of  the  expedition;  but  Pedrarias 
selected  his  rival  for  the  task,  hoping,  as  has  been  hinted, 
that  it  would  involve  him  in  disgrace.  Vasco  Nunez  promptly 
accepted  the  enterprise,  for  his  pride  was  concerned  in  its 
success.  Two  hundred  resolute  men  were  given  to  him  for 
the  purpose;  but  his  satisfaction  was  diminished  when  he 


*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  vii.  c.  10. 


Spares!?  Voyages  of  Discovery  495- 

found  that  Luis  Carrillo,  an  officer  of  Pedrarias,  who  had 
failed  in  a  perilous  enterprise,  was  associated  with  him  in  the 
command. 

Few  particulars  remain  to  us  of  the  events  of  this  affair. 
They  embarked  in  a  fleet  of  canoes,  and,  traversing  the  gulf, 
arrived  at  the  river  which  flowed  down  from  the  region  of 
Dobayba.  They  were  not  destined,  however,  to  achieve  the 
enterprise  of  the  golden  temple.  As  they  were  proceeding 
rather  confidently  and  unguardedly  up  the  river,  they  were 
suddenly  surprised  and  surrounded  by  an  immense  swarm  of 
canoes,  filled  with  armed  savages,  which  darted  out  from 
lurking  places  along  the  shores.  Some  of  the  Indians  as- 
sailed them  with  lances,  others  with  clouds  of  arrows,  while 
some,  plunging  into  the  water,  endeavored  to  overturn  their 
canoes.  In  this  way  one-half  of  the  Spaniards  were  killed 
or  drowned.  Among  the  number  fell  Luis  Carrillo,  pierced 
through  the  breast  by  an  Indian  lance.  Vasco  Nunez  him- 
self  was  wounded,  and  had  great  difficulty  in  escaping  to  the 
shore  with  the  residue  of  his  forces. 

The  Indians  pursued  him  and  kept  up  a  skirmishing  at- 
tack, but  he  beat  them  off  until  the  night,  when  he  silently 
abandoned  the  shore  of  the  river  and  directed  his  retreat  to- 
ward Darien.  It  is  easier  to  imagine  than  to  describe  the 
toils  and  dangers  and  horrors  which  beset  him  and  the  rem- 
nant of  his  men,  as  they  traversed  rugged  mountains  or 
struggled  through  these  fearful  morasses,  of  which  they  had 
heard  such  terrific  tales.  At  length  they  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing the  settlement  of  Darien. 

The  partisans  of  Pedrarias  exulted  in  seeing  Vasco  Nunez 
return  thus  foiled  and  wounded,  and  taunted  his  adherents 
with  their  previous  boastings.  The  latter,  however,  laid  all 
the  blame  upon  the  unfortunate  Carrillo.  "Vasco  Nunez," 
said  they,  "had  always  absolute  command  in  his  former  en- 
terprises, but  in  this  he  has  been  embarrassed  by  an  associate. 
Had  the  expedition  been  confided  to  him  alone,  the  event  had 
been  far  different." 


490  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir?<JtOQ 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-ONE 

LETTERS   FROM    THE    KING    IN    FAVOR    OF    VASCO 

ARRIVAL  OF  GARABITO— ARREST   OF  VASCO 
NUNEZ — (1515) 

ABOUT  this  time  dispatches  arrived  from  Spain  that  prom- 
ised to  give  a  new  turn  to  the  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez  and 
to  the  general  affairs  of  the  colony.  They  were  written  after 
the  tidings  of  the  discovery  of  the  South  Sea,  and  the  subju- 
gation of  so  many  important  provinces  of  the  isthmus.  In  a 
letter  addressed  to  Vasco  Nunez,  the  king  expressed  his  high 
sense  of  his  merits  and  services,  and  constituted  him  adelan- 
tado  of  the  South  Sea,  and  governor  of  the  provinces  of  Pan- 
ama and  Coyba,  though  subordinate  to  the  general  command 
of  Pedrarias.  A  letter  was  likewise  written  by  the  king  to 
Pedrarias,  informing  him  of  this  appointment  and  ordering 
him  to  consult  Vasco  Nunez  on  all  public  affairs  of  impor- 
tance. This  was  a  humiliating  blow  to  the  pride  and  conse- 
quence of  Pedrarias,  but  he  hoped  to  parry  it.  In  the  mean- 
time, as  all  letters  from  Spain  were  first  delivered  into  his 
hands,  he  withheld  that  intended  for  Vasco  Nunez,  until  he 
should  determine  what  course  of  conduct  to  adopt.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  heard  of  the  circumstance,  as  did  his  friend  the 
Bishop  of  Darien.  The  prelate  made  loud  complaints  of  this 
interruption  of  the  royal  correspondence,  which  he  denounced, 
even  from  the  pulpit,  as  an  outrage  upon  the  rights  of  the 
subject  and  an  act  of  disobedience  to  the  sovereign. 

Upon  this  the  governor  called  a  council  of  his  public 
officers ;  and,  after  imparting  the  contents  of  his  letter,  re- 
quested their  opinion  as  to  the  propriety  of  investing  Vasco 
Nunez  with  the  dignities  thus  granted  to  him.  The  alcalde 
mayor,  Espinosa,  had  left  the  party  of  the  bishop  and  was 
now  devoted  to  the  governor.  He  insisted,  vehemently,  that 


Spai)isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  497 

the  offices  ought  in  no  wise  to  be  given  to  Vasco  Nunez, 
until  the  king  should  be  informed  of  the  result  of  the  in- 
quest which  was  still  going  on  against  him.  In  this  he 
was  warmly  supported  by  the  treasurer  and  the  accountant. 
The  bishop  replied,  indignantly,  that  it  was  presumptuous 
and  disloyal  in  them  to  dispute  the  commands  of  the  king, 
and  to  interfere  with  the  rewards  conscientiously  given  by 
him  to  a  meritorious  subject.  In  this  way,  he  added,  they 
were- defeating,  by  their  passions,  the  grateful  intentions  of 
their  sovereign.  The  governor  was  overawed  by  the  honest 
warmth  of  the  bishop,  and  professed  to  accord  with  him  in 
opinion.  The  council  lasted  until  midnight;  and  it  was 
finally  agreed  that  the  titles  and  dignities  should  be  con- 
ferred on  Vasco  Nunez  on  the  following  day.* 

Pedrarias  and  his  officers  reflected,  however,  that  if  the 
jurisdiction  implied  by  these  titles  were  absolutely  vested  in 
Vasco  Nunez  the  government-of  Darien  and  Castilla  del  Oro 
would  virtually  be  reduced  to  a  trifling  matter;  they  resolved, 
therefore,  to  adopt  a  middle  course ;  to  grant  him  the  empty 
titles,  but  to  make  him  give  security  not  to  enter  upon  the 
actual  government  of  the  territories  in  question  until  Pe- 
drarias should  give  him  permission.  The  bishop  and  Vasco 
Nunez  assented  to  this  arrangement;  satisfied,  for  the  pres- 
ent, with  securing  the  titles,  and  trusting  to  the  course  of 
events  to  get  dominion  over  the  territories,  f 

The  new  honors  of  Vasco  Nunez  were  now  promulgated 
to  the  world,  and  he  was  everywhere  addressed  by  the  title 
of  adelantado.  His  old  friends  lifted  up  then*  heads  with 
exultation,  and  new  adherents  flocked  to  his  standard.  Parties 
began  to  form  for  him  and  for  Pedrarias,  for  it  was  deemed 
impossible  they  could  continue  long  in  harmony. 

The  jealousy  of  the  governor  was  excited  by  these  cir- 
cumstances; and  he  regarded  the  newly  created  adelantado 

*  Oviedo,  Part  II.,  c.  9,  MS.  Oviedo,  the  historian,  was  present  at 
this  consultation,  and  says  that  he  wrote  down  the  opinions  given  on 
the  occasion,  which  the  parties  signed  with  their  proper  hands. 

f  Oviedo,  Part  H.,  c.  9,  MS. 


498  U/or^s  of  U/asl?ii)$toi? 

as  a  dangerous  rival  and  an  insidious  foe.  Just  at  this  criti- 
cal juncture,  Andres  Garabito,  the  agent  of  Vasco  Nunez, 
arrived  on  the  coast  in  a  vessel  which  he  had  procured  at 
Cuba,  and  had  freighted  with  arms  and  ammunition,  and 
seventy  resolute  men,  for  the  secret  expedition  to  the  shores 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  He  anchored  six  leagues  from  the  har- 
bor, and  sent  word  privately  to  Vasco  Nunez  of  his  arrival. 
Information  was  immediately  carried  to  Pedrarias  that  a 
mysterious  vessel,  full  of  armed  men,  was  hovering  on  the 
coast,  and  holding  secret  communication  with  his  rival.  The 
suspicious  temper  of  the  governor  immediately  took  the  alarm. 
He  fancied  some  treasonable  plot  against  his  authority ;  his 
passions  mingled  with  his  fears;  and,  in  the  first  burst  of 
his  fury,  he  ordered  that  Vasco  Nunez  should  be  seized  and 
confined  hi  a  wooden  cage.  The  Bishop  of  Darien  interposed 
in  time  to  prevent  an  indignity  which  it  might  have  been  im- 
possible to  expiate.  He  prevailed  upon  the  passionate  gov- 
ernor, not  merely  to  retract  the  order  respecting  the  cage, 
but  to  examine  the  whole  matter  with  coolness  and  delibera- 
tion. The  result  proved  that  his  suspicions  had  been  errone- 
ous; and  that  the  armament  had  been  set  on  foot  without 
any  treasonable  intent.  Vasco  Nunez  was  therefore  set  at 
liberty,  after  having  agreed  to  certain  precautionary  condi- 
tions; but  he  remained  cast  down  in  spirit  and  impoverished 
in  fortune,  by  the  harassing  measures  of  Pedrarias. 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-TWO 

EXPEDITION  OP  MORALES  AND  PIZARBO  TO  THE  SHORES  OF 
THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN — THEIR  VISIT  TO  THE  PEARL  ISL- 
ANDS—THEIR DISASTROUS  RETURN  ACROSS  THE  MOUN- 
TAINS 

THE  Bishop  of  Darien,  encouraged  by  the  success  of  his 
intercession,  endeavored  to  persuade  the  governor  to  go  still 
further,  and  to  permit  the  departure  of  Vasco  Nunez  on  his 


Uoya^es  of  Discovery  499 

expedition  to  the  South  Sea.  The  jealousy  of  Pedrarias, 
however,  was  too  strong  to  permit  him  to  listen  to  such 
counsel.  He  was  aware  of  the  importance  of  the  expedition, 
and  was  anxious  that  the  Pearl  Islands  should  be  explored, 
which  promised  such  abundant  treasures ;  but  he  feared  to 
increase  the  popularity  of  Vasco  Nunez  by  adding  such  an 
enterprise  to  the  number  of  his  achievements.  Pedrarias, 
therefore,  set  on  foot  an  expedition,  consisting  of  sixty  men, 
but  gave  the  command  to  one  of  his  own  relations,  named 
Gaspar  Morales.  The  latter  was  accompanied  by  Francisco 
Pizarro,  who  had  already  been  to  those  parts  in  the  train  of 
Vasco  Nunez,  and  who  soon  rose  to  importance  in  the 
present  enterprise  by  his  fierce  courage  and  domineering 
genius. 

A  brief  notice  of  the  principal  incidents  of  this  expedition 
is  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  present  narration. 

Morales  and  Pizarro  traversed  the  mountains  of  the  isthmus 
by  a  shorter  and  more  expeditious  route  than  that  which  had 
been  taken  by  Vasco  Nunez,  and  arrived  on  the  shores  of  the 
South  Sea  at  the  territories  of  a  cacique  named  Tutibra,  by 
whom  they  were  amicably  entertained.  Their  great  object 
was  to  visit  the  Pearl  Islands :  the  cacique,  however,  had  but 
four  canoes,  which  were  insufficient  to  contian  their  whole 
party.  One-half  of  their  number,  therefore,  remained  at  the 
village  of  Tutibra,  under  the  command  of  a  captain  named 
Penalosa;  the  residue  embarked  in  the  canoes  with  Morales 
and  Pizarro.  After  a  stormy  and  perilous  voyage,  they  landed 
on  one  of  the  smaller  islands,  where  they  had  some  skirmish- 
ing with  the  natives,  and  thence  made  their  way  to  the  prin- 
cipal island  of  the  archipelago,  to  which,  from  the  report  of 
its  great  pearl  fishery,  Vasco  Nunez  had  given  the  name 
of  Isla  Rica. 

The  cacique  of  this  island  had  long  been  the  terror  of  the 
neighboring  coasts,  invading  the  mainland  with  fleets  of 
canoes,  and  carrying  off  the  inhabitants  into  captivity.  His 
reception  of  the  Spaniards  was  worthy  of  his  fame.  Four 
times  did  he  sally  forth  to  defend  his  territory,  and  as  often 


000  U7orl{6  of 

was  he  repulsed  with  great  slaughter.  His  warriors  were 
overwhelmed  with  terror  at  the  firearms  of  the  Spaniards, 
and  at  their  ferocious  bloodhounds.  Finding  all  resistance 
unavailing,  the  cacique  was  at  length  compelled  to  sue 
for  peace.  His  prayers  being  granted,  he  received  the 
conquerors  into  his  habitation,  which  was  well  built  and 
of  immense  size.  Here  he  brought  them,  as  a  peace-offer- 
ing, a  basket  curiously  wrought,  and  filled  with  pearls  of 
great  beauty.  Among  these  were  two  of  extraordinary  size 
and  value.  One  weighed  twenty-five  carats;  the  other  was 
of  the  size  of  a  Muscadine  pear,  weighing  upward  of  three 
drachms,  and  of  Oriental  color  and  luster.  The  cacique  con- 
sidered himself  more  than  repaid  by  a  present  of  hatchets, 
beads,  and  hawks' -bells;  and,  on  the  Spaniards  smiling  at 
his  joy,  observed,  "These  things  I  can  turn  to  useful  pur- 
pose, but  of  what  value  are  those  pearls  to  me?" 

Finding,  however,  that  these  baubles  were  precious  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Spaniards,  he  took  Morales  and  Pizarro  to  the 
summit  of  a  wooden  tower,  commanding  an  unbounded  pros- 
pect. "Behold  before  you,"  said  he,  "the  infinite  sea,  which 
extends  even  beyond  the  sunbeams.  As  to  these  islands  which 
lie  to  the  right  and  left,  they  are  all  subject  to  my  sway. 
They  possess  but  little  gold,  but  the  deep  places  of  the  sea 
around  them  are  full  of  pearls.  Continue  to  be  my  friends, 
and  you  shall  have  as  many  as  you  desire;  for  I  value  your 
friendship  more  than  pearls,  and,  as  far  as  in  me  lies,  will 
never  forfeit  it." 

He  then  pointed  to  the  mainland,  where  it  stretched  to- 
ward the  east,  mountain  beyond  mountain,  until  the  summit 
of  the  last  faded  in  the  distance  and  was  scarcely  seen  above 
the  watery  horizon.  In  that  direction,  he  said,  there  lay  a 
vast  country  of  inexhaustible  riches,  inhabited  by  a  mighty 
nation.  He  went  on  to  repeat  the  vague  but  wonderful  rumors 
which  the  Spaniards  had  frequently  heard  about  the  great 
kingdom  of  Peru.  Pizarro  listened  greedily  to  his  words, 
and  while  his  eye  followed  the  finger  of  the  cacique,  as  it 
ranged  along  the  line  of  shadowy  coast,  his  daring  mind  kin- 


Spaijijl?  Voya^ej  of  Discovery  501 

died  with  the  thought  of  seeking  this  golden  empire  beyond 
the  waters.* 

Before  leaving  the  island,  the  two  captains  impressed  the 
cacique  with  so  great  an  idea  of  the  power  of  the  king  of 
Castile  that  he  agreed  to  become  his  vassal,  and  to  render 
him  an  annual  tribute  of  one  hundred  pounds'  weight  of 
pearls. 

The  party  having  returned  in  safety  to  the  mainland, 
though  to  a  different  place  from  that  where  they  had  em- 
barked, Gaspar  Morales  sent  his  relation,  Bernardo  Morales, 
with  ten  men  in  quest  of  Penalosa  and  his  companions,  who 
had  remained  in  the  village  of  Tutibra. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Spaniards,  during  the  absence  of 
the  commanders,  this  Penalosa  had  so  exasperated  the  na- 
tives by  his  misconduct  that  a  conspiracy  had  been  formed 
by  the  caciques  along  the  coast  to  massacre  the  whole  of  the 
strangers,  when  the  party  should  return  from  the  islands. 

Bernardo  Morales  and  his  companions,  on  their  way  in 
quest  of  Penalosa,  put  up  for  the  night  in  the  village  of  a 
cacique  named  Chuchama,  who  was  one  of  the  conspirators. 
They  were  entertained  with  pretended  hospitality.  In  the 
dead  of  the  night,  however,  the  house  in  which  they  were 
sleeping  was  wrapped  in  flames,  and  most  of  them  were  de- 
stroyed. Chuchama  then  prepared  with  his  confederates  to 
attack  the  main  body  of  the  Spaniards  who  remained  with 
Morales  and  Pizarro. 

Fortunately  for  the  latter,  there  was  among  the  Indians 
who  had  accompanied  them  to  the  islands  a  cacique  named 
Chiruca,  who  was  in  secret  correspondence  with  the  conspira- 
tors. Some  circumstances  in  his  conduct  excited  their  sus- 
picions; they  put  him  to  the  torture  and  drew  from  him  a 
relation  of  the  massacre  of  their  companions,  and  of  the  at- 
tack with  which  they  were  menaced. 

Morales  and  Pizarro  were  at  first  appalled  by  the  over- 
whelming danger  which  surrounded  them.  Concealing  their 
agitation,  however,  they  compelled  Chiruca  to  send  a  mes- 
*Herrera,  d.  ii.  1.  i.  c.  4.  P.  Martyr,  d.  Hi.  c.  10. 


602  U/orKs  of 

sage  to  each  of  the  confederate  caciques,  inviting  him  to  a 
secret  conference,  under  pretense  of  giving  him  important 
information.  The  caciques  came  at  the  summons :  they  were 
thus  taken  one  by  one  to  the  number  of  eighteen,  and  put  in 
chains.  Just  at  this  juncture  Penalosa  arrived  with  the 
thirty  men  who  had  remained  with  him  at  Tutibra.  Their 
arrival  was  hailed  with  joy  by  their  comrades,  who  had 
given  them  up  for  lost.  Encouraged  by  this  unexpected  re- 
enforcement,  the  Spaniards  now  attacked  by  surprise  the 
main  body  of  confederate  Indians,  who,  being  ignorant  of 
the  discovery  of  their  plot,  and  capture  of  their  caciques, 
were  awaiting  the  return  of  the  latter  in  a  state  of  negligent 
security. 

Pizarro  led  the  van,  and  set  upon  the  enemy  at  daybreak 
with  the  old  Spanish  war-cry  of  Santiago!  It  was  a  slaugh- 
ter rather  than  a  battle,  for  the  Indians  were  unprepared  for 
resistance.  Before  sunrise,  seven  hundred  lay  dead  upon  the 
field.  Returning  from  the  massacre,  the  commanders  doomed 
the  caciques  who  were  in  chains  to  be  torn  in  pieces  by  the 
bloodhounds;  nor  was  even  Chiruca  spared  from  this  sangui- 
nary sentence.  Notwithstanding  this  bloody  revenge,  the  vin- 
dictive spirit  of  the  commanders  was  still  unappeased,  and 
they  set  off  to  surprise  the  village  of  a  cacique  named  Biru, 
who  dwelt  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael's. 
He  was  famed  for  valor  and  for  cruelty :  his  dwelling  was 
surrounded  by  the  weapons  and  other  trophies  of  those  whom 
he  had  vanquished ;  and  he  was  said  never  to  give  quarter. 

The  Spaniards  assailed  his  village  before  daybreak  with 
fire  and  sword,  and  made  dreadful  havoc.  Biru  escaped 
from  his  burning  habitation,  rallied  his  people,  kept  up  a 
galling  fight  throughout  the  greater  part  of  that  day,  and 
handled  the  Spaniards  so  roughly  that,  when  he  drew  off  at 
night,  they  did  not  venture  to  pursue  him,  but  returned  right 
gladly  from  his  territory.  According  to  some  of  the  Spanish 
writers,  the  kingdom  of  Peru  derived  its  name  from  this  war- 
like cacique,  through  a  blunder  of  the  early  discoverers;  the 
assertion,  however,  is  believed  to  be  erroneous. 


Spaijisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  503 

The  Spaniards  had  pushed  their  bloody  revenge  to  an  ex- 
treme, and  were  now  doomed  to  suffer  from  the  recoil.  In 
the  fury  of  their  passions  they  had  forgotten  that  they  were 
but  a  handful  of  men  surrounded  by  savage  nations.  Re- 
turning wearied  and  disheartened  from  the  battle  with  Biru, 
they  were  waylaid  and  assaulted  by  a  host  of  Indians  led  on 
by  the  son  of  Chiruca.  A  javelin  from  his  hand  pierced  one  of 
the  Spaniards  through  the  breast  and  came  out  between  the 
shoulders ;  several  others  were  wounded,  and  the  remainder 
were  harassed  by  a  galling  fire  kept  up  from  among  rocks 
and  bushes. 

Dismayed  at  the  implacable  vengeance  they  had  aroused, 
the  Spaniards  hastened  to  abandon  these  hostile  shores  and 
make  the  best  of  their  way  back  to  Darien.  The  Indians, 
however,  were  not  to  be  appeased  by  the  mere  departure  of 
the  intruders.  They  followed  them  perseveringly  for  seven 
days,  hanging  on  their  skirts,  and  harassing  them  by  contin- 
ual alarms.  Morales  and  Pizarro,  seeing  the  obstinacy  of 
their  pursuit,  endeavored  to  gain  a  march  upon  them  by 
stratagem.  Making  large  fires  as  usual  one  night  about  the 
place  of  their  encampment,  they  left  them  burning  to  deceive 
the  enemy  while  they  made  a  rapid  retreat.  Among  their 
number  was  one  poor  fellow  named  Velasquez,  who  was  so 
grievously  wounded  that  he  could  not  walk.  Unable  to  ac- 
company his  countrymen  in  their  flight,  and  dreading  to  fall 
into  the  merciless  hands  of  the  savages,  he  determined  to 
hang  himself,  nor  could  the  prayers  and  even  tears  of  his 
comrades  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose. 

The  stratagem  of  the  Spaniards,  however,  was  unavail- 
ing. Their  retreat  was  perceived,  and  at  daybreak,  to  their 
dismay,  they  found  themselves  surrounded  by  three  squad- 
rons of  savages.  Unable,  in  their  haggard  state,  to  make 
head  against  so  many  foes,  they  remained  drawn  up  all  day 
on  the  defensive,  some  watching  while  others  reposed.  At 
night  they  lighted  their  fires  and  again  attempted  to  make 
a  secret  retreat.  The  Indians,  however,  were  as  usual  on 
their  traces,  and  wounded  several  with  arrows.  Thus  pressed 


504  U/orKs  of 


and  goaded,  the  Spaniards  became  desperate,  and  fought  like 
madmen,  rushing  upon  the  very  darts  of  the  enemy. 

Morales  now  resorted  to  an  inhuman  and  fruitless  expedi- 
ent to  retard  his  pursuers.  He  caused  several  Indian  prison- 
ers to  be  slain,  hoping  that  their  friends  would  stop  to  lament 
over  them;  but  the  sight  of  their  mangled  bodies  only  in- 
creased the  fury  of  the  savages  and  the  obstinacy  of  their 
pursuit. 

For  nine  days  were  the  Spaniards  hunted  in  this  manner 
about  the  woods  and  mountains,  the  swamps  and  fens,  wan- 
dering they  knew  not  whither,  and  returning  upon  their 
steps,  until,  to  their  dismay,  they  found  themselves  in  the 
very  place  where,  several  days  previously,  they  had  been 
surrounded  by  the  three  squadrons. 

Many  now  began  to  despair  of  ever  escaping  with  life 
from  this  trackless  wilderness,  thus  teeming  with  deadly 
foes.  It  was  with  difficulty  their  commanders  could  rally 
their  spirits  and  encourage  them  to  persevere.  Entering  a 
thick  forest  they  were  again  assailed  by  a  band  of  Indians, 
but  despair  and  fury  gave  them  strength  :  they  fought  like 
wild  beasts  rather  than  like  men,  and  routed  the  foe  with 
dreadful  carnage.  They  had  hoped  to  gain  a  breathing  time 
by  this  victory,  but  a  new  distress  attended  them.  They  got 
entangled  in  one  of  those  deep  and  dismal  marshes  which 
abound  on  those  coasts,  and  in  which  the  wanderer  is  often 
drowned  or  suffocated.  For  a  whole  day  they  toiled  through 
brake  and  bramble,  and  miry  fen,  with  the  water  reaching 
to  their  girdles.  At  length  they  extricated  themselves  from 
the  swamp,  and  arrived  at  the  seashore.  The  tide  was  out, 
but  was  about  to  return,  and  on  this  coast  it  rises  rapidly  to 
a  great  height.  Fearing  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  rising 
surf,  they  hastened  to  climb  a  rock  out  of  reach  of  the  swell- 
ing waters.  Here  they  threw  themselves  on  the  earth,  pant- 
ing with  fatigue  and  abandoned  to  despair.  A  savage  wil- 
derness filled  with  still  more  savage  foes  was  on  one  side,  on 
the  other  the  roaring  sea.  How  were  they  to  extricate  them- 
selves from  these  surrounding  perils?  While  reflecting  on 


Voyages  of  Discovery  505 

their  desperate  situation,  they  heard  the  voices  of  Indians. 
On  looking  cautiously  round,  they  beheld  four  canoes  enter 
ing  a  neighboring  creek.  A  party  was  immediately  dis- 
patched who  came  upon  the  savages  by  surprise,  drove  them 
into  the  woods,  and  seized  upon  the  canoes.  In  these  frail 
barks  the  Spaniards  escaped  from  their  perilous  neighbor- 
hood, and,  traversing  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael's,  landed  in  a 
less  hostile  part,  from  whence  they  set  out  a  second  time 
across  the  mountains. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  the  other  hardships  they  endured, 
and  their  further  conflicts  with  the  Indians ;  suffice  it  to  say, 
after  a  series  of  almost  incredible  sufferings  and  disasters, 
they  at  length  arrived  in  a  battered  and  emaciated  condition 
at  Darien.  Throughout  all  their  toils  and  troubles,  however, 
they  had  managed  to  preserve  a  part  of  the  treasure  they  had 
gained  in  the  islands;  especially  the  pearls  given  them  by 
the  cacique  of  Isla  Rica.  These  were  objects  of  universal 
admiration.  One  of  them  was  put  up  at  auction,  and  bought 
by  Pedrarias,  and  was  afterward  presented  by  his  wife  Dona 
Isabella  de  Bobadilla  to  the  Empress,  who,  in  return,  gave 
her  four  thousand  ducats.* 

Such  was  the  cupidity  of  the  colonists  that  the  sight  of 
these  pearls  and  the  reputed  wealth  of  the  islands  of  the 
Southern  Sea,  and  the  kingdoms  on  its  borders,  made  far 
greater  impression  on  the  public  mind  than  the  tale  told 
by  the  adventurers  of  all  the  horrors  they  had  passed ;  and 
every  one  was  eager  to  seek  these  wealthy  regions  beyond 
the  mountains.  

CHAPTER   TWENTY-THREE 

UNFORTUNATE   ENTERPRISES   OF  THE    OFFICERS    OF    PEDRA- 
RIAS—MATRIMONIAL,    COMPACT    BETWEEN    THE 
GOVERNOR  AND  VASCO  NUNEZ 

IN  narrating  the  preceding  expedition  of  Morales  and 
Pizarro,  we  have  been  tempted  into  what  may  almost  be 

*Herrera,  Hist  Ind.,  d.  ii.  1.  i.  c.  4. 

"  *  *  Y  VOL.  V. 


006  U/orK»  of 


deemed  an  episode,  though  it  serves  to  place  in  a  proper  light 
the  lurking  difficulties  and  dangers  which  beset  the  expedi- 
ions  of  Vasco  Nunez  to  the  same  regions,  and  his  superior 
prudence  and  management  in  avoiding  them.  It  is  not  the 
object  of  this  narrative,  however,  to  record  the  general  events 
of  the  colony  under  the  administration  of  Don  Pedrarias  Da- 
vila.  We  refrain,  therefore,  from  detailing  various  expedi- 
tions set  on  foot  by  him  to  explore  and  subjugate  the  sur- 
rounding country;  and  which,  being  ignorantly  or  rashly 
conducted,  too  often  ended  in  misfortune  and  disgrace.  One 
of  these  was  to  the  province  of  Zenu,  where  gold  was  sup- 
posed to  be  taken  in  the  rivers  in  nets  ;  and  where  the  Bach- 
elor Enciso  once  undertook  to  invade  the  sepulchers.  A 
captain  named  Francisco  Becerra  penetrated  into  this  coun- 
try at  the  head  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  men,  well  armed 
and  equipped,  and  provided  with  three  pieces  of  artillery; 
but  neither  the  commander  nor  any  of  his  men  returned.  An 
Indian  boy  who  accompanied  them  was  the  only  one  who 
escaped,  and  told  the  dismal  tale  of  their  having  fallen  vic- 
tims to  the  assaults  and  stratagems  and  poisoned  arrows  of 
the  Indians. 

Another  band  was  defeated  by  Tubanama,  the  ferocious 
cacique  of  the  mountains,  who  bore  a's  banners  the  bloody 
shirts  of  the  Spaniards  he  had  slain  in  former  battles.  In 
fine,  the  colony  became  so  weakened  by  these  repeated  losses, 
and  the  savages  so  emboldened  by  success,  that  the  latter  be- 
leaguered it  with  their  forces,  harassed  it  by  assaults  and 
ambuscades,  and  reduced  it  to  great  extremity.  Such  was 
the  alarm  in  Darien,  says  the  Bishop  Las  Gasas,  that  the 
people  feared  to  be  burned  in  their  houses.  They  kept  a 
watchful  eye  upon  the  mountains,  the  plains,  and  the  very 
branches  of  the  trees.  Their  imaginations  were  infected  by 
their  fears.  If  they  looked  toward  the  land,  the  long,  wav- 
ing grass  of  the  savannas  appeared  to  them  to  be  moving 
hosts  of  Indians.  If  they  looked  toward  the  sea,  they  fancied 
they  beheld  fleets  of  canoes  in  the  distance.  Pedrarias  en- 
deavored to  prevent  all  rumors  from  abroad  that  might 


Spar?isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  607 

increase  this  fevered  state  of  alarm;  at  the  same  time  he 
ordered  the  smelting-house  to  be  closed,  which  was  never 
done  but  in  time  of  war.  This  was  done  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  bishop,  who  caused  prayers  to  be  put  up,  and  fasts 
proclaimed,  to  avert  the  impending  calamities. 

While  Pedrarias  was  harassed  and  perplexed  by  these 
complicated  evils,  he  was  haunted  by  continual  apprehen- 
sions of  the  ultimate  ascendency  of  Vasco  Nunez.  He  knew 
him  to  be  beloved  by  the  people,  and  befriended  by  the 
bishop;  and  he  had  received  proofs  that  his  services  were 
highly  appreciated  by  the  king.  He  knew  also  that  repre- 
sentations had  been  sent  home  by  him  and  his  partisans  of 
the  evils  and  abuses  of  the  colony  under  the  present  rule, 
and  of  the  necessity  of  a  more  active  and  efficient  governor. 
He  dreaded  lest  these  representations  should  ultimately  sue* 
ceed ;  that  he  should  be  undermined  hi  the  royal  favor,  and 
Vasco  Nunez  be  elevated  upon  his  ruins. 

The  politic  bishop  perceived  the  uneasy  state  of  the  gov" 
ernor's  mind,  and  endeavored,  by  means  of  his  apprehen- 
sions, to  effect  that  reconciliation  which  he  had  sought  in 
vain  to  produce  through  more  generous  motives.  He  repre- 
sented to  him  that  his  treatment  of  Vasco  Nunez  was  odious 
in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  and  must  eventually  draw  on  him 
the  displeasure  of  his  sovereign.  "But  why  persist,"  added 
he,  "in  driving  a  man  to  become  your  deadliest  enemy  whom 
you  may  grapple  to  your  side  as  your  firmest  friend?  You 
have  several  daughters — give  him  one  in  marriage;  you  will 
then  have  for  a  son-in-law  a  man  of  merit  and  popularity, 
who  is  a  hidalgo  by  birth,  and  a  favorite  of  the  king.  You 
are  advanced  in  life  and  infirm;  he  is  in  the  prime  and  vigor 
of  his  days,  and  possessed  of  great  activity.  You  can  make 
him  your  lieutenant;  and  while  you  repose  from  your  toils, 
he  can  carry  on  the  affairs  of  the  colony  with  spirit  and  en- 
terprise; and  all  his  achievements  will  redound  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  your  family  and  the  splendor  of  your  adminis- 
tration." 

The  governor  and  his  lady  were  won  by  the  eloquence  of 


o08  U/orKfc  of 

the  bishop  and  readily  listened  to  his  suggestions;  and  Vasco 
Nunez  was  but  too  happy  to  effect  a  reconciliation  on  such 
flattering  terms.  Written  articles  were  accordingly  drawn 
up  and  exchanged,  contracting  a  marriage  between  him  and 
the  eldest  daughter  of  Pedrarias.  The  young  lady  was  then 
in  Spain,  but  was  to  be  sent  for,  and  the  nuptials  were  to  be 
celebrated  on  her  arrival  at  Darien. 

Having  thus  fulfilled  his  office  of  peace-maker,  and  set- 
tled, as  he  supposed,  all  feuds  and  jealousies  on  the  sure  and 
permanent  foundation  of  family  alliance,  the  worthy  bishop 
departed  shortly  afterward  for  Spain. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-FOUR 

VASCO  NUNEZ    TRANSPORTS  SHIPS  ACROSS    THE    MOUNTAINS 
TO  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN— (1516) 

BEHOLD  Vasco  Nunez  once  more  in  the  high  career  of 
prosperity!  His  most  implacable  enemy  had  suddenly  been 
converted  into  his  dearest  friend ;  for  the  governor,  now  that 
he  looked  upon  him  as  his  son-in-law,  loaded  him  with  favors. 
Above  all,  he  authorized  him  to  build  brigantines  and  make 
all  the  necessary  preparations  for  his  long-desired  expedition 
to  explore  the  Southern  Ocean.  The  place  appointed  for 
these  purposes  was  the  port  of  Careta,  situated  to  the  west 
of  Darien;  from  whence  there  was  supposed  to  be  the  most 
convenient  route  across  the  mountains.  A  town  called  Acla 
had  been  founded  at  this  port;  and  the  fortress  was  already 
erected,  of  which  Lope  de  Olano  was  alcalde.  Vasco  Nunez 
was  now  empowered  to  continue  the  building  of  the  town. 
Two  hundred  men  were  placed  under  his  command  to  aid 
him  in  carrying  his  plans  into  execution,  and  a  sum  of  money 
was  advanced  to  him  out  of  the  royal  treasury.  His  supply 
of  funds,  however,  was  not  sufficient;  but  he  received  assist 
ance  from  a  private  source.  There  was  a  notary  at  Darien 
named  Hernando  de  Arguello,  a  man  of  some  consequence  in 


Spaijisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  509 

the  community,  and  who  had  been  one  of  the  most  furious 
opponents  of  the  unfortunate  Nicuesa.  He  had  amassed  con- 
siderable property,  and  now  embarked  a  great  part  of  it  in 
the  proposed  enterprise,  on  condition,  no  doubt,  of  sharing 
largely  in  its  anticipated  profits. 

On  arriving  at  Acla,  Vasco  Nunez  set  to  work  to  prepare 
the  materials  of  four  brigantines  that  were  to  be  launched 
into  the  South  Sea.  The  timber  was  felled  on  the  Atlantic 
seaboard ;  and  was  then,  with  the  anchors  and  rigging,  trans- 
ported across  the  lofty  ridge  of  mountains  to  the  opposite 
shores  of  the  isthmus.  Several  Spaniards,  thirty  negroes, 
and  a  great  number  of  Indians,  were  employed  for  the  pur- 
pose. They  had  no  other  roads  but  Indian  paths,  straggling 
through  almost  impervious  forests,  across  torrents,  and  up 
rugged  defiles,  broken  by  rocks  and  precipices.  In  this  way 
they  toiled  like  ants  up  the  mountains,  with  their  ponderous 
burdens,  under  the  scorching  rays  of  a  tropical  sun.  Many 
of  the  poor  Indians  sank  by  the  way  and  perished  under  this 
stupendous  task,,  The  Spaniards  and  negroes,  being  of  hardier 
constitutions,  were  better  able  to  cope  with  the  incredible 
hardships  to  which  they  were  subjected.  On  the  summit  of 
the  mountains  a  house  had  been  provided  for  their  temporary 
repose.  After  remaining  here  a  little  time  to  refresh  them- 
selves and  gain  new  strength,  they  renewed  their  labors,  de- 
scending the  opposite  side  of  the  mountains  until  they  reached 
the  navigable  part  of  a  river,  which  they  called  the  Balsas, 
and  which  flowed  into  the  Pacific. 

Much  time  and  trouble  and  many  lives  were  expended  on 
this  arduous  undertaking,  before  they  had  transported  to  the 
river  sufficient  timber  for  two  brigantines;  while  the  timber 
for  the  other  two,  and  the  rigging  and  munitions  for  the 
whole,  yet  remained  to  be  brought.  To  add  to  their  diffi- 
culties, they  had  scarcely  begun  to  work  upon  the  timber 
before  they  discovered  that  it  was  totally  useless,  being  sub- 
ject to  the  ravages  of  the  worms  from  having  been  cut  in  ths 
vicinity  of  salt  water.  They  were  obliged,  therefore,  to  be- 
gin anew,  and  fell  trees  on  the  border  of  the  river. 


010  "i/or^s  of 

Vasco  Nunez  maintained  his  patience  and  perseverance, 
and  displayed  admirable  management  under  these  delays 
and  difficulties.  Their  supply  of  food  being  scanty,  he  di- 
vided his  people,  Spaniards,  negroes,  and  Indians,  into  three 
bands;  one  was  to  cut  and  saw  the  wood,  another  to  bring 
the  rigging  and  iron- work  from  Acla,  which  was  twenty-two 
leagues  distant;  and  the  third  to  forage  the  neighboring 
country  for  provisions. 

Scarcely  was  the  timber  felled  and  shaped  for  use  when 
the  rains  set  in,  and  the  river  swelled  and  overflowed  its 
banks  so  suddenly  that  the  workmen  barely  escaped  with 
their  lives  by  clambering  into  the  trees;  while  the  wood  on 
which  they  had  been  working  was  either  buried  in  sand  or 
slime,  or  swept  away  by  the  raging  torrent.  Famine  was 
soon  added  to  their  other  distresses.  The  foraging  party 
was  absent  and  did  not  return  with  food :  and  the  swelling 
of  the  river  cut  them  off  from  that  part  of  the  country  from 
whence  they  obtained  their  supplies.  They  were  reduced, 
therefore,  to  such  scarcity  as  to  be  fain  to  assuage  their 
hunger  with  such  roots  as  they  could  gather  in  the  forests. 

In  this  extremity  the  Indians  bethought  themselves  of 
one  of  their  rude  and  simple  expedients.  Plunging  into  the 
river  they  fastened  a  number  of  logs  together  with  withes, 
and  connected  them  with  the  opposite  bank,  so  as  to  make 
a  floating  bridge.  On  this  a  party  of  the  Spaniards  crossed 
with  great  difficulty  and  peril,  from  the  violence  of  the  cur- 
rent, and  the  flexibility  of  the  bridge,  which  often  sank  be- 
neath them  until  the  water  rose  above  their  girdles.  On 
being  safely  landed,  they  foraged  the  neighborhood,  and 
procured  a  supply  of  provisions  sufficient  for  the  present 
emergency. 

When  the  river  subsided  the  workmen  again  resumed 
their  labors;  a  number  of  recruits  arrived  from  Acla,  bring- 
ing various  supplies,  and  the  business  of  the  enterprise  was 
pressed  with  redoubled  ardor,  until,  at  length,  after  a  series 
of  incredible  toils  and  hardships,  Vasco  Nunez  had  the  satis- 
faction to  behold  two  of  his  brigantines  floating  on  the  river 


Uoya^es  of  Discovery  511 

Balsas.  As  soon  as  they  could  be  equipped  for  sea,  he  em- 
barked in  them  with  as  many  Spaniards  as  they  could  carry; 
and,  issuing  forth  from  the  river,  launched  triiimphantly  on 
the  great  ocean  he  had  discovered. 

We  can  readily  imagine  the  exultation  of  this  intrepid  ad- 
venturer,  and  how  amply  he  was  repaid  for  all  his  sufferings 
when  he  first  spread  a  sail  upon  that  untraversed  ocean  and 
felt  that  the  range  of  an  unknown  world  was  open  to  him. 

There  are  points  in  the  history  of  these  Spanish  discoveries 
of  the  western  hemisphere  that  make  us  pause  with  wonder 
and  admiration  at  the  daring  spirit  of  the  men  who  conducted 
them  and  the  appalling  difficulties  surmounted  by  their  cour- 
age and  perseverance.  We  know  few  instances,  however, 
more  striking  than  this  piecemeal  transportation  across  the 
mountains  of  Darien  of  the  first  European  ships  that  plowed 
the  waves  of  the  Pacific;  and  we  can  readily  excuse  the  boast 
of  the  old  Castilian  writers  when  they  exclaim  "That  none 
but  Spaniards  could  ever  have  conceived  or  persisted  in  such 
an  undertaking,  and  no  commander  in  the  New  World  but 
Vasco  Nunez  could  have  conducted  it  to  a  successful  issue."  * 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-FIVE 

CRUISE  OP  VASCO  NUNEZ  IN  THE  SOUTHERN  SEA— RUMORS 

FROM   ACLA 

THE  first  cruise  of  Vasco  Nunez  was  to  the  group  of  Pearl 
Islands,  on  the  principal  one  of  which  he  disembarked  the 
greater  part  of  his  crews,  and  dispatched  the  brigantines  to 
the  mainland  to  bring  off  the  remainder.  It  was  his  inten» 
tion  to  construct  the  other  two  vessels  of  his  proposed  squad- 
ron at  this  island.  During  the  absence  of  the  brigantines  he 
ranged  the  island  with  his  men  to  collect  provisions  and  to 
establish  a  complete  sway  over  the  natives.  On  the  return 
of  his  vessels,  and  while  preparations  were  making  for  the 

*  Herrera,  d.  ii,  1.  ii.  c.  11. 


of 

building  of  the  others,  he  embarked  with  a  hundred  men  and 
departed  on  a  reconnoitering  cruise  to  the  eastward  toward 
the  region  pointed  out  by  the  Indians  as  abounding  in  riches. 

Having  passed  about  twenty  leagues  beyond  the  Gulf  of 
San  Miguel,  the  mariners  were  filled  with  apprehension  at 
beholding  a  great  number  of  whales,  which  resembled  a  reef 
of  rocks  stretching  far  into  the  sea  and  lashed  by  breakers. 
In  an  unknown  ocean  like  this  every  unusual  object  is  apt  to 
inspire  alarm.  The  seamen  feared  to  approach  these  fancied 
dangers  in  the  dark ;  Vasco  Nunez  anchored,  therefore,  for 
the  night  under  a  point  of  land,  intending  to  continue  in  the 
same  direction  on  the  following  day.  When  the  morning 
dawned,  however,  the  wind  had  changed  and  was  contrary; 
whereupon  he  altered  his  course  and  thus  abandoned  a  cruise 
which,  if  persevered  in,  might  have  terminated  in  the  dis- 
covery of  Peru!  Steering  for  the  mainland,  he  anchored  on 
that  part  of  the  coast  governed  by  the  cacique  Chuchama, 
who  had  massacred  Bernardo  Morales  and  his  companions 
when  reposing  in  his  village.  Here,  landing  with  his  men, 
Vasco  Nunez  came  suddenly  upon  the  dwelling  of  the  ca- 
cique. The  Indians  sallied  forth  to  defend  their  homes,  but 
were  routed  with  great  loss;  and  ample  vengeance  was  taken 
upon  them  for  their  outrage  upon  the  laws  of  hospitality. 
Having  thus  avenged  the  death  of  his  countrymen,  Vasco 
Nunez  re-embarked  and  returned  to  Isla  Rica. 

He  now  applied  himself  diligently  to  complete  the  build- 
ing of  his  brigantines,  dispatching  men  to  Acla  to  bring  the 
necessary  stores  and  rigging  across  the  mountains.  "While 
thus  occupied,  a  rumor  reached  him  that  a  new  governor 
named  Lope  de  Sosa  was  coming  out  from  Spain  to  supersede 
Pedrarias.  Vasco  Nunez  was  troubled  at  these  tidings.  A 
new  governor  would  be  likely  to  adopt  new  measures,  or  to 
have  new  favorites.  He  feared,  therefore,  that  some  order 
might  come  to  suspend  or  embarrass  his  expedition,  or  that 
ihe  command  of  it  might  be  given  to  another.  In  his  per- 
plexity he  held  a  consultation  with  several  of  his  confidential 
officers. 


Spares!?  Voyages  of  Discovery  613 

After  some  debate,  it  was  agreed  among  them  that  a 
trusty  and  intelligent  person  should  be  sent  as  a  scout  to  Acla 
under  pretense  of  procuring  munitions  for  the  ships.  Should 
he  find  Pedrarias  in  quiet  possession  of  the  government,  he 
was  to  account  to  him  for  the  delay  of  the  expedition ;  to  re- 
quest that  the  time  allotted  to  it  might  be  extended,  and  to 
request  re-enforcements  and  supplies.  Should  he  find,  how- 
ever, that  a  new  governor  was  actually  arrived,  he  was  to 
return  immediately  with  the  tidings.  In  such  case  it  was 
resolved  to  put  to  sea  before  any  contrary  orders  could  ar- 
rive, trusting  eventually  to  excuse  themselves  on  the  plea  of 
zeal  and  good  intentions. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-SIX 

RECONNOITERING    EXPEDITION     OF     GARABITO — STRATAGEM 
OF   PEDRARIAS    TO  ENTRAP  VASCO  NTJ$EZ 

THE  person  intrusted  with  the  reconnoitering  expedition 
to  Acla  was  Andres  Garabito,  in  whose  fidelity  and  discre- 
tion Vasco  Nunez  had  implicit  confidence.  His  confidence 
was  destined  to  be  fatally  deceived.  According  to  the  asser- 
tions of  contemporaries,  this  Garabito  cherished  a  secret  and 
vindictive  enmity  against  his  commander,  arising  from  a  sim 
pie  but  a  natural  cause.  Vasco  Nunez  had  continued  to  have 
a  fondness  for  the  Indian  damsel,  daughter  of  the  cacique 
Careta,  whom  he  had  received  from  her  father  as  a  pledge  of 
amity.  Some  dispute  arose  concerning  her  on  one  occasion 
between  him  and  Garabito,  in  the  course  of  which  he  ex- 
pressed himself  in  severe  and  galling  language.  Garabito 
was  deeply  mortified  at  some  of  his  expressions,  and,  being 
of  a  malignant  spirit,  determined  on  a  dastardly  revenge. 
He  wrote  privately  to  Pedrarias  assuring  him  that  Vasco 
Nunez  had  no  intention  of  solemnizing  his  marriage  with  his 
daughter,  being  completely  under  the  influence  of  an  Indian 
paramour ;  that  he  made  use  of  the  friendship  of  Pedrarias 
merely  to  further  his  own  selfish  views,  intending,  as  soon  as 


514  U/or^s  of 

his  ships  were  ready,  to  throw  off  all  allegiance,  and  to  put 
to  sea  as  an  independent  commander. 

This  mischievous  letter  Garabito  had  written  immediately 
after  the  last  departure  of  Vasco  Nunez  from  Acla.  Its  effects 
upon  the  proud  and  jealous  spirit  of  the  governor  may  easily 
be  conceived.  All  his  former  suspicions  were  immediately 
revived.  They  acquired  strength  during  a  long  interval  that 
elapsed  without  tidings  being  received  from  the  expedition. 
There  were  designing  and  prejudiced  persons  at  hand  who 
perceived  and  quickened  these  jealous  feelings  of  the  gov- 
ernor. Among  these  was  the  Bachelor  Corral,  who  cher- 
ished a  deep  grudge  against  Vasco  Nunez  for  having  once 
thrown  him  into  prison  for  his  factious  conduct;  and  Alonzo 
de  la  Puente,  the  royal  treasurer,  whom  Vasco  Nunez  had 
affronted  by  demanding  the  repayment  of  a  loan.  Such  was 
the  tempest  that  was  gradually  gathering  in  the  factious  little 
colony  of  Darien. 

The  subsequent  conduct  of  Garabito  gives  much  confirma- 
tion to  the  charge  of  perfidy  that  has  been  advanced  against 
him.  When  he  arrived  at  Acla  he  found  that  Pedrarias  re- 
mained in  possession  of  the  government;  for  his  intended 
successor  had  died  in  the  very  harbor.  The  conduct  and 
conversation  of  Garabito  was  such  as  to  arouse  suspicions ; 
he  was  arrested,  and  his  papers  and  letters  were  sent  to  Pe- 
drarias. When  examined  he  readily  suffered  himself  to  be 
wrought  upon  by  threats  of  punishment  and  promises  of  par- 
don, and  revealed  all  that  he  knew,  and  declared  still  more 
that  he  suspected  and  surmised,  of  the  plans  and  intentions 
of  Vasco  Nunez. 

The  arrest  of  Garabito,  and  the  seizure  of  his  letters,  pro- 
duced a  great  agitation  at  Darien.  It  was  considered  a  re- 
vival of  the  ancient  animosity  between  the  governor  and 
Vasco  Nunez,  and  the  friends  of  the  latter  trembled  for  his 
safety. 

Hernando  de  Arguello  especially  was  in  great  alarm.  He 
had  embarked  the  most  of  his  fortune  in  the  expedition,  and 
the  failure  of  it  would  be  ruinous  to  him.  He  wrote  to  Vasco 


Spaijisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  515 

Nunez,  informing  him  of  the  critical  posture  of  affairs,  and 
urging  him  to  put  to  sea  without  delay.  He  would  be  pro- 
tected at  all  events,  he  said,  by  the  Jeronimite  Fathers  at 
San  Domingo,  who  were  at  that  time  all-powerful  in  the  New 
World,  and  who  regarded  his  expedition  as  calculated  to  pro- 
mote the  glory  of  God  as  well  as  the  dominion  of  the  king.* 
This  letter  fell  into  the  hands  of  Pedrarias,  and  convinced 
him  of  the  existence  of  a  dangerous  plot  against  his  author- 
ity. He  immediately  ordered  Arguello  to  be  arrested ;  and 
now  devised  means  to  get  Vasco  Nunez  within  his  power. 
While  the  latter  remained  on  the  shores  of  the  South  Sea 
wita  his  brigantines  and  his  band  of  hearty  and  devoted  fol- 
lowers, Pedrarias  knew  that  it  would  be  hi  vain  to  attempt 
to  take  him  by  force.  Dissembling  his  suspicions  and  inten- 
tions, therefore,  he  wrote  to  him  hi  the  most  amicable  terms, 
requesting  him  to  repair  immediately  to  Acla,  as  he  wished 
to  hold  a  conference  with  him  about  the  impending  expedi- 
tion. Fearing,  however,  that  Vasco  Nunez  might  suspect 
his  motives  and  refuse  to  comply,  he,  at  the  same  time,  or- 
dered Francisco  Pizarro  to  muster  all  the  armed  force  he 
could  collect,  and  to  seek  and  arrest  his  late  patron  and  com- 
mander wherever  he  might  be  found. 

So  great  was  the  terror  inspired  by  the  arrest  of  Arguello, 
and  by  the  general  violence  of  Pedrarias,  that,  though  Vasco 
Nunez  was  a  favorite  with  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  no 
one  ventured  to  warn  him  of  the  danger  that  attended  his 
return  to  Acla. 


*  In  consequence  of  the  eloquent  representations  made  to  the  Span- 
ish government  by  the  venerable  Las  Casas  of  the  cruel  wrongs  and 
oppressions  practiced  upon  the  Indians  in  the  colonies,  the  Cardinal 
Ximenas,  in  1516,  sent  out  three  Jeronimite  Friars,  chosen  for  their  zeal 
and  abilities,  clothed  with  full  powers  to  inquire  into  and  remedy  all 
abuses,  and  to  take  all  proper  measures  for  the  good  government,  re- 
ligious instruction,  and  effectual  protection  of  the  natives.  The  exer- 
cise of  their  powers  at  San  Domingo  made  a  great  sensation  in  the  New 
World,  and,  for  a  time,  had  a  beneficial  effect  in  checking  the  oppressive 
and  licentious  conduct  of  the  colonists. 


51t>  U/orKs  of 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-SEVEN 

VASCO   NUNEZ  AND   THE   ASTROLOGER—  HIS  RETURN  TO  ACLA 

THE  old  Spanish  writers  who  have  treated  of  the  fortunes 
of  Vasco  Nunez  record  an  anecdote  which  is  worthy  of  being 
cited,  as  characteristic  of  the  people  and  the  age.  Among 
the  motley  crowd  of  adventurers  lured  across  the  ocean  by 
the  reputed  wealth  and  wonders  of  the  New  World  was  an 
Italian  astrologer,  a  native  of  Venice,  named  Micer  Codro. 
At  the  time  that  Vasco  Nunez  held  supreme  sway  at  Darien, 
this  reader  of  the  stars  had  cast  his  horoscope,  and  pretended 
to  foretell  his  destiny.  Pointing  one  night  to  a  certain  star, 
he  assured  him  that  in  the  year  in  which  he  should  behold 
that  star  in  a  part  of  the  heavens  which  he  designated,  his 
life  would  be  in  imminent  jeopardy  ;  but  should  he  survive 
this  year  of  peril,  he  would  become  the  richest  and  most  re- 
nowned captain  throughout  the  Indies. 

Several  years,  it  is  added,  had  elapsed  since  this  predic- 
tion was  made  ;  yet  that  it  still  dwelt  in  the  mind  of  Vasco 
Nunez  was  evident  from  the  following  circumstance.  While 
waiting  the  return  of  his  messenger,  Garabito,  he  was  on  the 
shore  of  Isla  Rica  one  serene  evening,  in  company  with  some 
of  his  officers,  when,  regarding  the  heavens,  he  beheld  the 
fated  star  exactly  in  that  part  of  the  firmament  which  had 
been  pointed  out  by  the  Italian  astrologer.  Turning  to  his 
companions  with  a  smile,  "Behold,"  said  he,  "the  wisdom 
of  those  who  believe  in  sooth-sayers,  and,  above  all,  in  such 
an  astrologer  as  Micer  Codro  !  According  to  his  prophecy,  I 
should  now  be  in  imminent  peril  of  my  life;  yet,  here  I  am, 
within  reach  of  all  my  wishes;  sound  in  health,  with  four 
brigantines  and  three  hundred  men  at  my  command,  and  on 
the  point  of  exploring  this  great  southern  ocean." 

At  this  fated  juncture,  says  the  chroniclers,  arrived  the 
hypocritical  letter  of  Pedrarias,  inviting  him  to  an  interview 


§pai)isl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  517 

at  Acla!  The  discreet  reader  will  decide  for  himself  what 
credit  to  give  to  this  anecdote,  or,  rather,  what  allowance  to 
make  for  the  little  traits  of  coincidence  gratuitously  added 
to  the  original  fact  by  writers  who  delight  in  the  marvelous. 
The  tenor  of  this  letter  awakened  no  suspicion  in  the  breast 
of  Vasco  Nunez,  who  reposed  entire  confidence  in  the  amity 
of  the  governor  as  his  intended  father-in-law,  and  appears  to 
have  been  unconscious  of  anything  in  his  own  conduct  that 
could  warrant  hostility.  Leaving  his  ships  in  command  of 
Francisco  Companon,  he  departed  immediately  to  meet  the 
governor  at  Acla,  unattended  by  any  armed  force. 

The  messengers  who  had  brought  the  letter  maintained 
at  first  a  cautious  silence  as  to  the  events  which  had  trans- 
pired at  Darien.  They  were  gradually  won,  however,  by 
the  frank  and  genial  manners  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  grieved 
to  see  so  gallant  a  soldier  hurrying  into  the  snare.  Hav- 
ing crossed  the  mountains  and  drawn  near  to  Acla,  their 
kind  feelings  got  the  better  of  their  caution,  and  they  re- 
vealed the  true  nature  of  their  errand,  and  the  hostile  inten- 
tions of  Pedrarias.  Vasco  Nunez  was  struck  with  astonish- 
ment at  the  recital ;  but,  being  unconscious,  it  is  said,  of  any 
evil  intention,  he  could  scarcely  credit  this  sudden  hostility 
in  a  man  who  had  but  recently  promised  him  his  daughter  in 
marriage.  He  imagined  the  whole  to  be  some  groundless 
jealousy  which  his  own  appearance  would  dispel,  and  accord- 
ingly continued  on  his  journey.  He  had  not  proceeded  far, 
however,  when  he  was  met  by  a  band  of  armed  men,  led  by 
Francisco  Pizarro.  The  latter  stepped  forward  to  arrest  his 
ancient  commander.  Vasco  Nunez  paused  for  a  moment, 
and  regarded  him  with  a  look  of  reproachful  astonishment. 
"How  is  this,  Francisco?"  exclaimed  he.  "Is  this  the  way 
you  have  been  accustomed  to  receive  me?"  Offering  no 
further  remonstrance,  he  suffered  himself  quietly  to  be  taken 
prisoner  by  his  former  adherent,  and  conducted  in  chains  to 
Acla.  Here  he  was  thrown  into  prison,  and  Bartolome  Hur- 
tado,  once  his  favorite  officer,  was  sent  to  take  command  of 
his  squadron. 


518  U/orks  of  U/asl?i9$toi)  Irufift 

CHAPTER  TWENTY-EIGHT 

TRIAL  OF  VASCO    NU&EZ 

DON  PEDRARIAS  concealed  his  exultation  at  the  success 
of  the  stratagem  by  which  he  had  ensnared  his  generous  and 
confiding  rival.  He  even  visited  him  in  prison,  and  pre- 
tended deep  concern  at  being  obliged  to  treat  him  with  this 
temporary  rigor,  attributing  it  entirely  to  certain  accusations 
lodged  against  him  by  the  treasurer  Alonzo  de  la  Puente, 
which  his  official  situation  compelled  him  to  notice  and  in- 
vestigate. 

"Be  not  afflicted,  however,  my  son!"  said  the  hypocrite, 
"an  investigation  will,  doubtless,  not  merely  establish  youi 
innocence,  but  serve  to  render  your  zeal  and  loyalty  toward 
your  sovereign  still  more  conspicuous." 

"While  Pedrarias  assumed  this  soothing  tone  toward  his 
prisoner,  he  urged  the  alcalde  mayor  Espinosa  to  proceed 
against  him  with  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law. 

The  charge  brought  against  him  of  a  treasonable  con- 
spiracy to  cast  off  all  allegiance  to  the  crown,  and  tp  assume 
an  independent  sway  on  the  borders  of  the  Southern  Sea, 
was  principally  supported  by  the  confessions  of  Andres 
Garabito.  The  evidence  is  also  cited  of  a  soldier  who 
stood  sentinel  one  night  near  the  quarters  of  Vasco  Nunez 
on  Isla  Rica,  and  who,  being  driven  to  take  shelter  from 
the  rain  under  the  eaves  of  the  house,  overheard  a  conver- 
sation between  that  commander  and  certain  of  his  officers, 
wherein  they  agreed  to  put  to  sea  with  the  squadron  on  their 
own  account,  and  to  set  the  governor  at  defiance.  This 
testimony,  according  to  Las  Casas,  arose  from  a  misconstruc- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  sentinel,  who  only  heard  a  portion  of 
their  conversation,  relating  to  their  intention  of  sailing  with- 
out waiting  for  orders,  in  case  a  new  governor  should  arrive 
to  supersede  Pedrarias. 

The  governor  in  the  meantime  informed  himself  from  day 


Spaniel?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  519 

to  day  and  hour  to  hour,  of  the  progress  of  the  trial,  and, 
considering  the  evidence  sufficiently  strong  to  warrant  his 
personal  hostility,  he  now  paid  another  visit  to  his  prisoner, 
and,  throwing  off  all  affectation  of  kindness,  upbraided  him 
in  the  most  passionate  manner. 

"Hitherto,'*  said  he,  "I  have  treated  you  as,  a  son,  be- 
cause I  thought  you  loyal  to  your  king,  and  to  me  as  his 
representative;  but  as  I  find  you  have  meditated  rebellion 
against  the  crown  of  Castile,  I  cast  you  off  from  my  affec- 
tions, and  shall  henceforth  treat  you  as  an  enemy." 

Vasco  Nunez  indignantly  repelled  the  charge,  and  ap- 
pealed to  the  confiding  frankness  of  his  conduct  as  a  proof  of 
innocence.  "Had  I  been  conscious  of  my  guilt,"  said  he, 
"what  could  have  induced  me  to  come  here  and  put  myself 
into  your  hands?  Had  I  meditated  rebellion,  what  prevented 
me  from  carrying  it  into  effect?  I  had  four  ships  ready  to 
weigh  anchor,  three  hundred  brave  men  at  my  command, 
and  an  open  sea  before  me.  What  had  I  to  do  but  to  spread 
sail  and  press  forward?  There  was  no  doubt  of  finding  a 
land,  whether  rich  or  poor,  sufficient  for  me  and  mine,  far 
beyond  the  reach  of  your  control.  In  the  innocence  of  my 
heart,  however,  I  came  here  promptly,  at  your  mere  request, 
and  my  reward  is  slander,  indignity,  and  chains!" 

The  noble  and  ingenuous  appeal  of  Vasco  Nunez  had  no 
effect  on  the  prejudiced  feelings  of  the  governor;  on  the  con- 
trary he  was  but  the  more  exasperated  against  his  prisoner, 
and  ordered  that  his  irons  should  be  doubled. 

The^  trial  was  now  urged  by  him  with  increased  eager- 
ness. Lest  the  present  accusation  should  not  be  sufficient  to 
effect  the  ruin  of  his  victim,  the  old  inquest  into  his  conduct 
as  governor,  which  had  remained  suspended  for  many  years, 
was  revived,  and  he  was  charged  anew  with  the  wrongs  in- 
flicted on  the  Bachelor  Enciso,  and  with  the  death  of  the 
unfortunate  Nicuesa. 

Notwithstanding  all  these  charges,  the  trial  went  on 
slowly,  with  frequent  delays;  for  the  alcalde  mayor,  Gaspar 
de  Espinosa,  seems  to  have  had  but  little  relish  for  the  task 


1520  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii>$toi) 

assigned  him,  and  to  have  needed  frequent  spurring  from 
the  eager  and  passionate  governor.  He  probably  considered 
the  accused  as  technically  guilty,  though  innocent  of  all  in- 
tentional rebellion,  but  was  ordered  to  decide  according  to 
the  strict  letter  of  the  law.  He  therefore  at  length  gave  a 
reluctant  verdict  against  Vasco  Nunez,  but  recommended 
him  to  mercy,  on  account  of  his  great  services,  or  entreated 
that,  at  least,  he  might  be  permitted  to  appeal.  "No!"  said 
the  unrelenting  Pedrarias.  "If  he  has  merited  death,  let 
him  suffer  death!"  He  accordingly  condemned  him  to  be 
beheaded.  The  same  sentence  was  passed  upon  several  of 
his  officers  who  were  implicated  in  his  alleged  conspiracy; 
among  these  was  Hernando  de  Arguello,  who  had  written 
the  letter  to  Vasco  Nunez,  informing  him  of  the  arrest  of  his 
messenger,  and  advising  him  to  put  to  sea,  without  heeding 
the  hostility  of  Pedrarias.  As  to  the  perfidious  informer 
Garabito,  he  was  pardoned  and  set  at  liberty. 

In  considering  this  case,  as  far  as  we  are  enabled,  from 
the  imperfect  testimony  that  remains  on  reccord,  we  are  in- 
clined to  think  it  one  where  passion  and  self-interest  inter- 
fered with  the  pure  administration  of  justice.  Pedrarias  had 
always  considered  Vasco  Nunez  as  a  dangerous  rival,  and, 
though  his  jealousy  had  been  for  some  time  lulled  by  looking 
on  him  as  an  intended  son-in-law,  it  was  revived  by  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  intended  to  evade  his  alliance,  and  to  dispute 
his  authority.  His  exasperated  feelings  hurried  him  too  f ai 
to  retreat,  and,  having  loaded  his  prisoner  with  chains  and 
indignities,  his  death  became  indispensable  to  his  own 
security. 

For  our  own  part,  we  have  little  doubt  that  it  was  the 
fixed  intention  of  Vasco  Nunez,  after  he  had  once  succeeded 
in  the  arduous  undertaking  of  transporting  his  ships  across 
the  mountains,  to  suffer  no  capricious  order  from  Pedrarias, 
or  any  other  governor,  to  defeat  the  enterprise  which  he 
had  so  long  meditated,  and  for  which  he  had  so  labori- 
ously prepared.  It  is  probable  he  may  have  expressed 
euch  general  determination  in  the  hearing  of  Garabita 


Uoya<jes  of  Discovery  521 

and  of  others  of  his  companions.  We  can  find  ample  ex- 
cuse for  such  a  resolution  in  his  consciousness  of  his  own 
deserts;  his  experience  of  past  hinderances  to  his  expedition, 
arising  from  the  jealousy  of  others;  his  feeling  of  some  de- 
gree of  authority,  from  his  office  of  adelantado;  and  his 
knowledge  of  the  favorable  disposition  and  kind  intentions 
of  his  sovereign  toward  him.  We  acquit  hin?  entirely  of  the 
senseless  idea  of  rebelling  against  the  crown;  and  suggest 
these  considerations  in  palliation  of  any  meditated  disobedi- 
ence of  Pedrarias,  should  such  a  charge  be  supposed  to  have 
been  substantiated. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-NINE 

EXECUTION  OF  VASCO   NUNEZ — (151?) 

IT  was  a  day  of  gloom  and  horror  at  Acla  when  Vasco 
Nunez  and  his  companions  were  led  forth  to  execution.  The 
populace  were  moved  to  tears  at  the  unhappy  fate  of  a  man 
whose  gallant  deeds  had  excited  their  admiration,  and  whose 
generous  qualities  had  won  their  hearts.  Most  of  them  re- 
garded him  as  the  victim  of  a  jealous  tyrant;  and  even  those 
who  thought  him  guilty  saw  something  brave  and  brilliant 
in  the  very  crime  imputed  to  him.  Such,  however,  was  the 
general  dread  inspired  by  the  severe  measures  of  Pedrarias 
that  no  one  dared  to  lift  up  his  voice,  either  in  murmur  or 
remonstrance. 

The  public  crier  walked  before  Vasco  Nunez,  proclahning, 
"This  is  the  punishment  inflicted  by  command  of  the  king 
and  his  lieutenant,  Don  Pedrarias  Davila,  on  this  man,  as  a 
traitor  and  a  usurper  of  the  territories  of  the  crown." 

When  Vasco  Nunez  heard  these  words,  he  exclaimed 
indignantly,  "It  is  false!  Never  did  such  a  crime  enter  my 
mind.  I  have  ever  served  my  king  with  truth  and  loyalty, 
and  sought  to  augment  his  dominions." 

These  words  were  of  no  avail  in  his  extremity,  but  they 
were  fully  believed  by  the  populace. 


U/orks  of  U/a8f?ii}<$tor} 

The  execution  took  place  in  the  public  square  of  Acla; 
and  we  are  assured  by  the  historian,  Oviedo,  who  was  in  the 
colony  at  the  time,  that  the  cruel  Pedrarias  was  a  secret 
witness  of  the  bloody  spectacle,  which  he  contemplated  from 
between  the  reeds  of  the  wall  of  a  house  about  twelve  paces 
from  the  scaffold!* 

Vasco  Nunez  was  the  first  to  suffer  death.  Having  con- 
fessed himself  and  partaken  of  the  sacrament,  he  ascended 
the  scaffold  with  a  firm  step  and  a  calm  and  manly  demeanor ; 
and  laying  his  head  upon  the  block,  it  was  severed  in  an 
instant  from  his  body.  Three  of  his  officers,  Valderrabano, 
Botello,  and  Hernan  Munos,  were  in  like  manner  brought 
one  by  one  to  the  block,  and  the  day  had  nearly  expired 
before  the  last  of  them  was  executed. 

One  victim  still  remained.  It  was  Hernan  de  Arguello, 
who  had  been  condemned  as  an  accomplice,  for  having 
written  the  intercepted  letter. 

The  populace  could  no  longer  restrain  their  feelings. 
They  had  not  dared  to  intercede  for  Vasco  Nunez,  knowing 
the  implacable  enmity  of  Pedrarias;  but  they  now  sought 
the  governor,  and  throwing  themselves  at  his  feet,  entreated 
that  this  man  might  be  spared,  as  he  had  taken  no  active 
part  in  the  alleged  treason.  The  daylight,  they  said,  was  at 
an  end,  and  it  seemed  as  if  God  had  hastened  the  night,  to 
prevent  the  execution. 

The  stern  heart  of  Pedrarias  was  not  to  be  touched. 
" No,"  said  he,  "I  would  sooner  die  myself  than  spare  one 
of  them."  The  unfortunate  Arguello  was  led  to  the  block. 
The  brief  tropical  twilight  was  past,  and  in  the  gathering 
gloom  of  the  night  the  operations  on  the  scaffold  could  not 
be  distinguished.  The  multitude  stood  listening  in  breath- 
less silence,  until  the  stroke  of  the  executioner  told  that  all 
was  accomplished.  They  then  dispersed  to  their  homes  with 
hearts  filled  with  grief  and  bitterness,  and  a  night  of  lamenta- 
tion succeeded  to  this  day  of  horrors. 

The  vengeance  of  Pedrarias  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Ind.,  Part  II.,  c.  9,  MS. 


Spaniel?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  523 

death  of  his  victim;  he  confiscated  his  property  and  dishon- 
ored his  remains,  causing  his  head  to  be  placed  upon  a  pole 
and  exposed  for  several  days  in  the  public  square.* 

Thus  perished,  in  his  forty-second  year,  in  the  prime  and 
vigor  of  his  days  and  the  full  career  of  his  glory,  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  and  deserving  of  the  Spanish  discoverers — a 
victim  to  the  basest  and  most  perfidious  envy. 

How  vain  are  our  most  confident  hopes,  our  brightest  tri- 
umphs !  When  Vasco  Nunez  from  the  mountains  of  Darien 
beheld  the  Southern  Ocean  revealed  to  his  gaze,  he  consid- 
ered its  unknown  realms  at  his  disposal.  When  he  had 
launched  his  ships  upon  its  waters,  and  his  sails  were  in  a 
manner  flapping  in  the  wind,  to  bear  him  in  quest  of  the 
wealthy  empire  of  Peru,  he  scoffed  at  the  prediction  of  the 
astrologer,  and  defied  the  influence  of  the  stars.  Behold  him 
interrupted  at  the  very  moment  of  his  departure ;  betrayed 
into  the  hands  of  his  most  invidious  foe ;  the  very  enterprise 
that  was  to  have  crowned  him  with  glory  wrested  into  a 
crime;  and  himself  hurried  to  a  bloody  and  ignominious 
grave,  at  the  foot,  as  it  were,  of  the  mountain  from  whence 
he  had  made  his  discovery.  His  fate,  like  that  of  his  re- 
nowned predecessor,  Columbus,  proves  that  it  is  sometimes 
dangerous  even  to  discern  too  greatly ! 


THE   FORTUNES   OF  VALDIVIA  AND   HIS 
COMPANIONS 

IT  was  in  the  year  1512  that  Valdivia,  the  regidor  of 
Darien,  was  sent  to  Hispaniola  by  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa 
for  re-enforcements  and  supplies  for  the  colony.  He  set  sail 
in  a  caravel,  and  pursued  his  voyage  prosperously  until  he 
arrived  in  sight  of  the  island  of  Jamaica.  Here  he  was  en- 
countered by  one  of  the  violent  hurricanes  which  sweep  those 
latitudes,  and  driven  on  the  shoals  and  sunken  rocks  called 
the  Vipers,  since  infamous  for  many  a  shipwreck.  His 
*  Oviedo,  ubi  sup. 


524  M/orKs  of  U/a8l?ip^tor) 

vessel  soon  went  to  pieces,  and  Valdivia  and  his  crew,  con- 
sisting of  twenty  men,  escaped  with  difficulty  in  the  boat, 
without  having  time  to  secure  a  supply  either  of  water  or 
provisions.  Having  no  sails,  and  their  oars  being  scarcely 
fit  for  use,  they  were  driven  about  for  thirteen  days  at  the 
mercy  of  the  currents  of  those  unknown  seas.  During  this 
time  their  sufferings  from  hunger  and  thirst  were  indescrib- 
able. Seven  of  their  number  perished,  and  the  rest  were 
nearly  famished,  when  they  were  stranded  on  the  eastern 
coast  of  Yucatan,  hi  a  province  called  Maya.  Here  they 
were  set  upon  by  the  natives,  who  broke  their  boat  in  pieces, 
and  carried  them  oif  captive  to  the  cacique  of  the  province, 
by  whose  orders  they  were  mewed  up  in  a  kind  of  pen. 

At  first  their  situation  appeared  tolerable  enough  con- 
sidering the  horrors  from  which  they  had  escaped.  They 
were  closely  confined,  it  is  true,  but  they  had  plenty  to  eat 
and  drink,  and  soon  began  to  recover  flesh  and  vigor.  In  a 
little  while,  however,  their  enjoyment  of  this  good  cheer  met 
with  a  sudden  check,  for  the  unfortunate  Valdivia,  and  four 
of  his  companions,  were  singled  out  by  the  cacique,  on  ac- 
count of  their  improved  condition,  to  be  offered  up  to  his 
idols.  The  natives  of  this  coast  in  fact  were  cannibals,  de- 
vouring the  flesh  of  their  enemies  and  of  such  strangers  as 
fell  into  their  hands.  The  wretched  Valdivia  and  his  fellow 
victims,  therefore,  were  sacrificed  in  the  bloody  temple  of 
the  idol,  and  their  limbs  afterward  served  up  at  a  grand  feast 
held  by  the  cacique  and  his  subjects. 

The  horror  of  the  survivors  may  be  more  readily  imagined 
than  described.  Their  hearts  died  within  them  when  they 
heard  the  yells  and  bowlings  of  the  savages  over  their  vic- 
tims, and  the  still  more  horrible  revelry  of  their  cannibal 
orgies.  They  turned  with  loathing  from  the  food  set  so 
abundantly  before  them,  at  the  idea  that  it  was  but  intended 
to  fatten  them  for  a  future  banquet. 

Recovering  from  the  first  stupor  of  alarm,  their  despair 
lent  them  additional  force.  They  succeeded  in  breaking,  in 
the  night,  from  the  kind  of  cage  in  which  they  were  confined, 


Spaijisl?  l/oya^es  of 

and  fled  to  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Here  they  wandered 
about  forlorn,  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  and  miseries  of  the 
wilderness ;  famishing  with  hunger,  yet  dreading  to  approach 
the  haunts  of  men.  At  length  their  sufferings  drove  them 
forth  from  the  woods  into  another  part  of  the  country,  where 
they  were  again  taken  captive.  The  cacique  of  this  province, 
however,  was  an  enemy  to  the  one  from  whom  they  had 
escaped,  and  of  less  cruel  propensities.  He  spared  their  lives, 
and  contented  himself  with  making  them  slaves,  exacting 
from  them  the  severest  labor.  They  had  to  cut  and  draw 
wood,  to  procure  water  from  a  distance,  and  to  carry  enor- 
mous burdens.  The  cacique  died  soon  after  their  capture, 
and  was  succeeded  by  another  called  Taxmar.  He  was  a 
chief  of  some  talent  and  sagacity,  but  he  continued  the  same 
rigorous  treatment  of  the  captives.  By  degrees  they  sank 
beneath  the  hardships  of  their  lot,  until  only  two  were  left ; 
one  of  them,  a  sturdy  sailor  named  Gonzalo  Guerrero,  the 
other  a  kind  of  clerical  adventurer,  named  Jeronimo  de 
Aguilar.  The  sailor  had  the  good  luck  to  be  transferred  to 
the  service  of  the  cacique  of  the  neighboring  province  of 
Chatemal,  by  whom  he  was  treated  with  kindness.  Being 
a  thorough  son  of  the  ocean,  seasoned  to  all  weathers,  and 
ready  for  any  chance  or  change,  he  soon  accommodated  him- 
self to  his  new  situation,  followed  the  cacique  to  the  wars, 
rose  by  his  hardihood  and  prowess  to  be  a  distinguished 
warrior,  and  succeeded  in  gaining  the  heart  and  hand  of  an 
Indian  princess. 

The  other  survivor,  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar,  was  of  a  differ- 
ent complexion.  He  was  a  native  of  Ecrja  in  Andalusia,  and 
had  been  brought  up  to  the  church  and  regularly  ordained, 
and  shortly  afterward  had  sailed  in  one  of  the  expeditions  to 
San  Domingo,  from  whence  he  had  passed  to  Darien. 

He  proceeded  in  a  different  mode  from  that  adopted  by 
his  comrade  the  sailor  in  his  dealings  with  the  Indians,  and 
in  one  more  suited  to  his  opposite  calling.  Instead  of  playing 
the  hero  among  the  men  and  the  gallant  among  the  women, 
he  recollected  his  priestly  obligations  to  humility  and  chastity. 


526  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$toi)  Iruiij<5 

Accordingly,  he  made  himself  a  model  of  meekness  and  obe- 
dience to  the  cacique  and  his  warriors,  while  he  closed  his 
eyes  to  the  charms  of  the  infidel  women.  Nay,  in  the  latter 
respect,  he  re-enforced  his  clerical  vows  by  a  solemn  promise 
to  God  to  resist  all  temptations  of  the  flesh  so  he  might  be 
delivered  out  of  the  hands  of  these  Gentiles. 

Such  were  the  opposite  measures  of  the  sailor  and  the 
saint,  and  they  appear  to  have  been  equally  successful. 
Aguilar,  by  his  meek  obedience  to  every  order,  however 
arbitrary  and  capricious,  gradually  won  the  good- will  of  the 
cacique  and  his  family.  Taxmar,  however,  subjected  him 
to  many  trials  before  he  admitted  him  to  his  entire  confi- 
dence. One  day  when  the  Indians,  painted  and  decorated 
in  warlike  style,  were  shooting  at  a  mark,  a  warrior,  who 
had  for  some  time  fixed  his  eyes  on  Aguilar,  approached  sud- 
denly and  seized  him  by  the  arm.  "Thou  seest,"  said  he, 
"the  certainty  of  these  archers;  if  they  aim  at  the  eye,  they 
hit  the  eye — if  at  the  mouth,  they  hit  the  mouth — what 
wouldst  thou  think  if  thou  wert  to  be  placed  instead  of  the 
mark  and  they  were  to  shoot  at  and  miss  thee?" 

Aguilar  secretly  trembled  lest  he  should  be  the  victim  of 
some  cruel  caprice  of  the  kind.  Dissembling  his  fears,  how- 
ever, he  replied  with  great  submission,  "I  am  your  slave  and 
you  may  do  with  me  as  you  please,  but  you  are  too  wise  to 
destroy  a  slave  who  is  so  useful  and  obedient."  His  answer 
pleased  the  cacique,  who  had  secretly  sent,  this  warrior  to 
try  his  humility. 

Another  trial  of  the  worthy  Jeronimo  was  less  stern  and 
fearful  indeed,  but  equally  perplexing.  The  cacique  had 
remarked  his  unexampled  discretion  with  respect  to  the  sex, 
but  doubted  his  sincerity.  After  laying  many  petty  tempta- 
tions in  his  way,  which  Jeronimo  resisted  with  the  self-denial 
of  a  saint,  he  at  length  determined  to  subject  him  to  a  fiery 
ordeal.  He  accordingly  sent  him  on  a  fishing  expedition  ac- 
companied by  a  buxom  damsel  of  fourteen  years  of  age ;  they 
were  to  pass  the  night  by  the  seaside,  so  as  to  be  ready  to 
fish  at  the  first  dawn  of  day,  and  were  allowed  but  one  ham- 


Spai)isl?  Voyages  of  Disoouery  527 

mock  to  sleep  in.  It  was  an  embarrassing  predicament — not 
apparently  to  the  Indian  beauty  but  certainly  to  the  scrupu- 
lous Jeronimo.  He  remembered,  however,  his  double  vow, 
and,  suspending  his  hammock  to  two  trees,  resigned  it  to  his 
companion ;  while,  lighting  a  fire  on  the  seashore,  he  stretched 
himself  before  it  on  the  sand.  It  was,  as  he  acknowledged, 
a  night  of  fearful  trial,  for  his  sandy  couch  was  cold  and 
cheerless,  the  hammock  warm  and  tempting ;  and  the  infidel 
damsel  had  been  instructed  to  assail  him  with  all  manner  of 
blandishments  and  reproaches.  His  resolution,  however, 
though  often  shaken,  was  never  overcome;  and  the  morning 
dawned  upon  him  still  faithful  to  his  vow. 

The  fishing  over,  he  returned  to  the  residence  of  the 
cacique,  where  his  companion,  being  closely  questioned,  made 
known  the  triumph  of  his  self-denial  before  all  the  people. 
From  that  time  forward  he  was  held  in  great  respect;  the 
cacique  especially  treated  him  with  unlimited  confidence,  in- 
trusting to  him  the  care  not  merely  of  his  house,  but  of  his 
wives,  during  his  occasional  absence. 

Aguilar  now  felt  ambitious  of  rising  to  greater  conse- 
quence among  the  savages,  but  this  he  knew  was  only  to  be 
done  by  deeds  of  arms.  He  had  the  example  of  the  sturdy 
seaman,  Gonzalo  Guerrero,  before  his  eyes,  who  had  become 
a  great  captain  in  the  province  in  which  he  resided.  He  en- 
treated Taxmar,  therefore,  to  intrust  him  with  bow  and  ar- 
rows, buckler  and  war-club,  and  to  enroll  him  among  his 
warriors.  The  cacique  complied.  Aguilar  soon  made  him- 
self expert  at  his  new  weapons,  signalized  himself  repeatedly 
in  battle,  and,  from  his  superior  knowledge  of  the  arts  of 
war,  rendered  Taxmar  such  essential  service  as  to  excite  the 
jealousy  of  some  of  the  neighboring  caciques.  One  of  them 
remonstrated  with  Taxmar  for  employing  a  warrior  who 
was  of  a  different  religion,  and  insisted  that  Aguilar  should 
be  sacrificed  to  their  gods.  "No,"  replied  Taxmar,  "I  will 
not  make  so  base  a  return  for  such  signal  services ;  surely  the 
gods  of  Aguilar  must  be  good,  since  they  aid  him  so  effect- 
ually in  maintaining  a  just  cause." 


528  U/orKs  of  U7asl?io$toi)  Irvii>$ 

The  cacique  was  so  incensed  at  this  reply  that  he  assem- 
bled his  warriors  and  marched  to  make  war  upon  Taxmar. 
Many  of  the  counselors  of  the  latter  urged  him  to  give  up 
the  stranger  who  was  the  cause  of  this  hostility.  Taxmar, 
however,  rejected  their  counsel  with  disdain  and  prepared 
for  battle.  Aguilar  assured  him  that  his  faith  in  the  Chris- 
tian's God  would  be  rewarded  with  victory;  he,  in  fact,  con- 
certed a  plan  of  battle  which  was  adopted.  Concealing 
himself  with  a  chosen  band  of  warriors  among  thickets  and 
herbage,  he  suffered  the  enemy  to  pass  by  in  making  their 
attack.  Taxmar  and  his  host  pretended  to  give  way  at  the 
first  onset.  The  foe  rushed  heedlessly  in  pursuit ;  whereupon 
Aguilar  and  his  ambuscade  assaulted  them  in  the  rear. 
Taxmar  turned  upon  them  in  front;  they  were  thrown  in 
confusion,  routed  with  great  slaughter,  and  many  of  their 
chiefs  taken  prisoners.  This  victory  gave  Taxmar  the  sway 
over  the  land,  and  strengthened  Aguilar  more  than  ever  in 
his  good  graces. 

Several  years  had  elapsed  in  this  manner,  when,  in  1517, 
intelligence  was  brought  to  the  province  of  the  arrival  on  the 
neighboring  coast  of  great  vessels  of  wonderful  construction, 
filled  with  white  and  bearded  men,  who  fought  with  thunder 
and  lightning.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  squadron  of  Francisco 
Hernandez  de  Cordova,  then  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  The 
tidings  of  this  strange  invasion  spread  consternation  through 
the  country,  heightened,  if  we  may  credit  the  old  Spanish 
writers,  by  a  prophecy  current  among  the  savages  of  these 
parts,  and  uttered  in  former  tunes  by  a  priest  named  Chilam 
Cambal,  who  foretold  that  a  white  and  bearded  people  would 
come  from  the  region  of  the  rising  sun,  who  would  overturn 
their  idols  and  subjugate  the  land. 

The  heart  of  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  beat  quick  with  hope 
when  he  heard  of  European  ships  at  hand ;  he  was  distant 
from  the  coast,  however,  and  perceived  that  he  was  too 
closely  watched  by  the  Indians  to  have  any  chance  of  escape. 
Dissembling  his  feelings,  therefore,  he  affected  to  hear  of  the 
ships  with  perfect  indifference,  and  to  have  no  desire  to  join 


Voyages  of  Discovery  529 

the  strangers.  The  ships  disappeared  from  the  coast,  and  he 
remained  disconsolate  at  heart,  but  was  regarded  with  in- 
creased confidence  by  the  natives. 

His  hopes  were  again  revived  in  the  course  of  a  year  or 
two  by  the  arrival  on  the  coast  of  other  ships,  which  were 
those  commanded  by  Juan  de  Grijalva,  who  coasted  Yucatan 
iix  1518;  Aguilar,  however,  was  again  prevented  by  the  jeal- 
ous watchfulness  of  the  Indians  from  attempting  his  escape, 
and  when  this  squadron  left  the  coast  he  considered  all 
chance  of  deliverance  at  an  end. 

Seven  years  had  gone  by  since  his  capture,  and  he  had 
given  up  all  hopes  of  being  restored  to  his  country  and  friends, 
when,  in  1519,  there  arrived  one  day  at  the  village  three 
Indians,  natives  of  the  small  island  of  Cozumel,  which  lies  a 
few  leagues  in  the  sea,  opposite  the  eastern  coast  of  Yucatan. 
They  brought  tidings  of  another  visit  of  white  bearded  men 
to  their  shores,  and  one  of  them  delivered  a  letter  to  Aguilar, 
which,  being  entirely  naked,  he  had  concealed  in  the  long 
tresses  of  his  hair  which  were  bound  round  his  head. 

Aguilar  received  the  letter  with  wonder  and  delight  and 
read  it  in  presence  of  the  cacique  and  his  warriors.  It  proved 
to  be  from  Hernando  Cortez,  who  was  at  that  time  on  his 
great  expedition  which  ended  in  the  conquest  of  Mexico.  He 
had  been  obliged  by  stress  of  weather  to  anchor  at  the  island 
of  Cozumel,  where  he  learned  from  the  natives  that  several 
white  men  were  detained  in  captivity  among  the  Indians  on 
the  neighboring  coast  of  Yucatan.  Finding  it  impossible  to 
approach  the  mainland  with  his  ships,  he  prevailed  upon 
three  of  the  islanders,  by  means  of  gifts  and  promises,  to 
venture  upon  an  embassy  among  their  cannibal  neighbors, 
and  to  convey  a  letter  to  the  captive  white  men.  Two  of  the 
smallest  caravels  of  the  squadron  were  sent  under  the  com- 
mand of  Diego  de  Ordas,  who  was  ordered  to  land  the  three 
messengers  at  the  point  of  Cotoche,  and  to  wait  there  eight 
days  for  their  return. 

The  letter  brought  by  these  envoys  informed  the  Christian 
captives  of  the  force  and  destination  of  the  squadron  of 

***  W  VOL.  V. 


530  U/orKs  of 

Cortez,  and  of  his  having  sent  the  caravels  to  wait  for  them 
at  the  point  of  Cotoche,  with  a  ransom  for  their  deliverance, 
inviting  them  to  hasten  and  join  him  at  Cozumel. 

The  transport  of  Aguilar  on  first  reading  the  letter  was 
moderated  when  he  reflected  on  the  obstacles  that  might  pre- 
vent him  from  profiting  by  this  chance  of  deliverance.  He 
had  made  himself  too  useful  to  the  cacique  to  hope  that  he 
would  readily  give  him  his  liberty,  and  he  knew  the  jealous 
and  irritable  nature  of  the  savages  too  well  not  to  fear  that 
even  an  application  for  leave  to  depart  might  draw  upon  him 
the  severest  treatment.  He  endeavored,  therefore,  to  operate 
upon  the  cacique  through  his  apprehensions.  To  this  end  he 
informed  him  that  the  piece  of  paper  which  he  held  in  his 
hand  brought  him  a  full  account  of  the  mighty  armament 
that  had  arrived  on  the  coast.  He  described  the  number  of 
the  ships  and  various  particulars  concerning  the  squadron, 
all  which  were  amply  corroborated  by  the  testimony  of  the 
messengers.  The  cacique  and  his  warriors  were  astonished 
at  this  strange  mode  of  conveying  intelligence  from  a  dis- 
tance, and  regarded  the  letter  as  something  mysterious  and 
supernatural.  Aguilar  went  on  to  relate  the  tremendous  and 
superhuman  powers  of  the  people  in  these  ships,  who,  armed 
with  thunder  and  lightning,  wreaked  destruction  on  all  who 
displeased  them,  while  they  dispensed  inestimable  gifts  and 
benefits  on  such  as  proved  themselves  their  friends.  He  at 
the  same  tune  spread  before  the  cacique  various  presents 
brought  by  the  messengers,  as  specimens  of  the  blessings  to 
be  expected  from  the  friendship  of  the  strangers.  The  inti- 
mation was  effectual.  The  cacique  was  filled  with  awe  at 
the  recital  of  the  terrific  powers  of  the  white  men,  and  his 
eyes  were  dazzled  by  the  glittering  trinkets  displayed  before 
him.  He  entreated  Aguilar,  therefore,  to  act  as  his  embas- 
sador  and  mediator,  and  to  secure  him  the  amity  of  the 
strangers. 

Aguilar  saw  with  transport  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  de- 
liverance. In  this  moment  of  exultation,  he  bethought  him- 
self of  the  only  surviving  comrade  of  his  pas£  fortunes,  Gon- 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  531 

zalo  Guerrero,  and,  sending  the  letter  of  Cortez  to  him, 
invited  him  to  accompany  him  hi  his  escape.  The  sturdy 
seaman  was  at  this  time  a  great  chieftain  in  his  province, 
and  his  Indian  bride  had  borne  him  a  numerous  progeny. 
His  heart,  however,  yearned  after  his  native  country,  and  he 
might  have  been  tempted  to  leave  his  honors  and  dignities, 
his  infidel  wife  and  half -savage  offspring  behind  him,  but  an 
insuperable,  though  somewhat  ludicrous,  obstacle  presented 
itself  to  his  wishes.  Having  long  since  given  over  all  ex- 
pectation of  a.  return  to  civilized  life,  he  had  conformed  to 
the  customs  of  the  country,  and  had  adopted  the  external 
signs  and  decorations  that  marked  him  as  a  warrior  and  a 
man  of  rank.  His  face  and  hands  were  indelibly  painted  or 
tattoed ;  his  ears  and  lips  were  slit  to  admit  huge  Indian 
ornaments,  and  his  nose  was  drawn  down  almost  to  his 
mouth  by  a  massy  ring  of  gold  and  a  dangling  jewel. 

Thus  curiously  garbled  and  disfigured,  the  honest  seaman 
felt  that,  however  he  might  be  admired  in  Yucatan,  he 
should  be  apt  to  have  the  rabble  at  his  heels  in  Spain.  He 
made  up  his  mind,  therefore,  to  remain  a  great  man  among 
the  savages  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  being  shown  as  a 
man-monster  at  home. 

Finding  that  he  declined  accompanying  him,  Jeronimo  de 
Aguilar  set  off  for  the  point  of  Cotoche,  escorted  by  three 
Indians.  The  time  he  had  lost  hi  waiting  for  Guerrero  had 
nearly  proved  fatal  to  his  hopes,  for  when  he  arrived  at  the 
point,  the  caravels  sent  by  Cortez  had  departed,  though 
several  crosses  of  reeds  set  up  in  different  places  gave  tokens 
of  the  recent  presence  of  Christians. 

The  only  hope  that  remained  was  that  the  squadron  of 
Cortez  might  yet  linger  at  the  opposite  island  of  Cozumel. 
But  how  was  he  to  get  there?  While  wandering  disconso- 
lately along  the  shore,  he  found  a  canoe,  half  buried  in  sand 
and  water,  and  with  one  side  in  a  state  of  decay.  With  the 
assistance  of  the  Indians  he  cleaned  it  and  set  it  afloat,  and 
on  looking  further  he  found  the  stave  of  a  hogshead  which 
might  serve  for  a  paddle.  It  was  a  frail  embarkation  in 


332  UYorks  of  U/asl?ir><$tor7  Iruli?<$ 

which  to  cross  an  arm  of  the  sea,  several  leagues  wide ;  but 
there  was  no  alternative.  Prevailing  on  the  Indians  to  ac- 
company him,  he  launched  forth  in  the  canoe  and  coasted  the 
mainland  until  he  came  to  the  narrowest  part  of  the  strait, 
where  it  was  but  four  leagues  across ;  here  he  stood  directly 
for  Cozumel,  contending,  as  well  as  he  was  able,  with  a  strong 
current,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  reaching  the  island. 

He  had  scarce  landed  when  a  party  of  Spaniards,  who 
had  been  lying  in  wait,  rushed  forth  from  their  concealment, 
sword  in  hand.  The  three  Indians  would  have  fled,  but 
Aguilar  reassured  them,  and,  calling  out  to  the  Spaniards  in 
their  own  language,  assured  them  that  he  was  a  Christian. 
Then  throwing  himself  upon  his  knees,  and  raising  his  eyes, 
streaming  with  tears,  to  heaven,  he  gave  thanks  to  God  for 
having  restored  him  to  his  countrymen. 

The  Spaniards  gazed  at  him  with  astonishment :  from  his 
language  he  was  evidently  a  Castilian,  but  to  all  appearance 
he  was  an  Indian.  He  was  perfectly  naked ;  wore  his  hair 
braided  round  his  head  in  the  manner  of  the  country,  and 
his  complexion  was  burned  by  the  sun  to  a  tawny  color.  He 
had  a  bow  hi  his  hand,  a  quiver  at  his  shoulder,  and  a  net- 
work pouch  at  his  side  in  which  he  carried  his  provisions. 

The  Spaniards  proved  to  be  a  reconnoitering  party,  sent 
out  by  Cortez  to  watch  the  approach  of  the  canoe,  which  had 
been  descried  coming  from  Yucatan.  Cortez  had  given  up 
all  hopes  of  being  joined  by  the  captives,  the  caravel  having 
waited  the  allotted  time  at  Cotoche,  and  returned  without 
news  of  them.  He  had,  in  fact,  made  sail  to  prosecute  his 
voyage,  but  fortunately  one  of  his  ships  had  sprung  a  leak, 
which  had  obliged  him  to  return  to  the  island. 

"When  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  and  his  companions  arrived 
in  presence  of  Cortez,  who  was  surrounded  by  his  officers, 
they  made  a  profound  reverence,  squatted  on  the  ground, 
laid  their  bows  and  arrows  beside  them,  and  touching  their 
right  hands,  wet  with  spittle,  on  the  ground,  rubbed  them 
about  the  region  of  the  heart,  such  being  their  sign  of  the 
most  devoted  submission, 


Spaniel?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  533 

Cortez  greeted  Aguilar  with  a  hearty  welcome,  and  rais- 
ing him  from  the  earth,  took  from  his  own  person  a  large 
yellow  mantle  lined  with  crimson,  and  threw  it  over  his 
shoulders.  The  latter,  however,  had  for  so  long  a  time  gone 
entirely  naked  that  even  this  scanty  covering  was  at  first 
almost  insupportable,  and  he  had  become  so  accustomed  to 
the  diet  of  the  natives  that  he  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile 
his  stomach  to  the  meat  and  drink  set  before  him. 

When  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  agitation  of 
his  arrival  among  Christians,  Cortez  drew  from  him  the 
particulars  of  his  story,  and  found  that  he  was  related  to  one 
of  his  own  friends,  the  licentiate  Marcos  de  Aguilar.  He 
treated  him,  therefore,  with  additional  kindness  and  respect, 
and  retained  him  about  his  person  to  aid  him  as  an  inter- 
preter in  his  great  Mexican  expedition. 

The  happiness  of  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  at  once  more  being 
restored  to  his  countrymen  was  doomed  to  suffer  some  alloy 
from  the  disasters  that  had  happened  in  his  family.  Peter 
Martyr  records  a  touching  anecdote  of  the  effect  that  had 
been  produced  upon  his  mother  by  the  tidings  of  his  misfort- 
une. A  vague  report  had  reached  her  in  Spain  that  her  son 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  cannibals.  All  the  horrible  tales 
that  circulated  in  Spain  concerning  the  treatment  of  these 
savages  to  their  prisoners  rushed  to  her  imagination,  and 
she  went  distracted.  Whenever  she  beheld  roasted  meat,  or 
flesh  upon  the  spit,  she  would  fill  the  house  with  her  outcries. 
"Oh,  wretched  mother!  oh,  most  miserable  of  women!" 
would  she  exclaim,  "behold  the  limbs  of  my  murdered  son."* 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  tidings  of  his  deliverance  had  a 
favorable  effect  upon  her  intellects,  and  that  she  lived  to 
rejoice  at  his  after-fortunes.  He  served  Hernando  Cortez 
with  great  courage  and  ability  throughout  his  Mexican  con- 
quests, acting  sometimes  as  a  soldier,  sometimes  as  inter- 
preter and  embassador  to  the  Indians,  and,  in  reward  of  his 
fidelity  and  services,  was  appointed  regidor  or  civil  governor 
of  the  city  of  Mexico. 

*P.  Martyr,  dec  ad.  iv.,  c.  6. 


334  U/or^s  of 


MICER   CODRO,   THE   ASTROLOGER 

THE  fate  of  the  Italian  astrologer,  Micer  Codro,  who  pre- 
dicted the  end  of  Vasco  Nunez,  is  related  by  the  historian 
Oviedo,  with  some  particulars  that  border  upon  the  marvel- 
ous. It  appears  that  after  the  death  of  his  patron  he  con- 
tinued for  several  years  rambling  about  the  New  World  in 
the  train  of  the  Spanish  discoverers ;  but  intent  upon  study- 
ing the  secrets  of  its  natural  history  rather  than  searching 
after  its  treasures. 

In  the  course  of  his  wanderings  he  was  once  coasting  the 
shores  of  the  Southern  Ocean  in  a  ship  commanded  by  one 
Geronimo  de  Valenzuela,  from  whom  he  received  such  cruel 
treatment  as  to  cause  his  death,  though  what  the  nature  of 
the  treatment  was  we  are  not  precisely  informed. 

Finding  his  end  approaching,  the  unfortunate  astrologer 
addressed  Valenzuela  in  the  most  solemn  manner:  "Cap- 
tain," said  he,  "you  have  caused  my  death  by  your  cruelty; 
I  now  summon  you  to  appear  with  me  within  a  year  before 
the  judgment  seat  of  God!" 

The  captain  made  a  light  and  scoffing  answer,  and  treated 
his  summons  with  contempt. 

They  were  then  off  the  coast  of  Veragua,  near  the  ver- 
dant islands  of  Zebaco,  which  lie  at  the  entrance  of  the  Gulf 
of  Paria.  The  poor  astrologer  gazed  wistfully  with  his  dying 
eyes  upon  the  green  and  shady  groves,  and  entreated  the 
pilot  or  mate  of  the  caravel  to  land  him  on  one  of  the  islands, 
that  he  might  die  in  peace.  "Micer  Codro,"  replied  the 
pilot,  "those  are  not  islands,  but  points  of  land;  there  are  no 
islands  hereabout. ' ' 

"There  are,  indeed,"  replied  the  astrologer,  "two  good 
and  pleasant  islands,  well  watered,  and  near  to  the  coast, 
and  within  them  is  a  great  bay  with  a  harbor.  Land  me,  I 
pray  you,  upon  one  of  these  islands,  that  I  may  have  comfort 
in  my  dying  hour." 


Spai}isl?  l/oya$es  of  Discovery  535 

The  pilot,  whose  rough  nature  had  been  touched  with  pity 
for  the  condition  of  the  unfortunate  astrologer,  listened  to  his 
prayer,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  shore,  where  he  found  the 
opinion  he  had  given  of  the  character  of  the  coast  to  be  cor- 
rect. He  laid  him  on  the  herbage  in  the  shade,  where  the 
poor  wanderer  soon  expired.  The  pilot  then  dug  a  grave  at 
the  foot  of  a  tree,  where  he  buried  him  with  all  possible 
decency,  and  carved  a  cross  on  the  bark  to  mark  the  grave. 

Some  time  afterward,  Oviedo,  the  historian,  was  on  the 
island  with  this  very  pilot,  who  showed  him  the  cross  on 
the  tree,  and  gave  his  honest  testimony  to  the  good  charac- 
ter and  worthy  conduct  of  Micer  Codro.  Oviedo,  as  he  re- 
garded the  nameless  grave,  passed  the  eulogium  of  a  scholar 
upon  the  poor  astrologer:  "He  died,"  says  he,  "like  Pliny, 
in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  traveling  about  the  world  to 
explore  the  secrets  of  nature."  According  to  his  account, 
the  prediction  of  Micer  Codro  held  good  with  respect  to 
Valenzuela,  as  it  had  in  the  case  of  Vasco  Nunez.  The  cap- 
tain died  within  the  term  in  which  he  had  summoned  him  to 
appear  before  the  tribunal  of  God!* 

*  Vide  Oviedo,  Hist.  Gen.,  1.  xxxix.,  c.  8. 


536  U/orKs  of  U/asI?io$toi? 


JUAN    PONCE   DE   LEON 

CONQUEROR   OF  PORTO  RICO  AND  DISCOVERER  OF 
FLORIDA 


CHAPTER  ONE 

RECONNOITERING   EXPEDITION  OF  JUAN   PONCE   DE   LEON  TO 
THE   ISLAND   OF   BORIQUEN— (1508) 

MANY  years  had  elapsed  since  the  discovery  and  coloniza- 
tion of  Hayti,  yet  its  neighboring  island  of  Boriquen,  or,  as 
the  Spaniards  called  it,  St.  Juan  (since  named  Porto  Rico), 
remained  unexplored.  It  was  beautiful  to  the  eye  as  beheld 
from  the  sea,  having  lofty  mountains  clothed  with  forest 
trees  of  prodigious  size  and  magnificent  foliage.  There  were 
broad  fertile  valleys  also,  always  fresh  and  green;  for  the 
frequent  showers  and  abundant  streams  in  these  latitudes, 
and  the  absence  of  all  wintry  frost,  produce  a  perpetual 
verdure.  Various  ships  had  occasionally  touched  at  the 
island,  but  their  crews  had  never  penetrated  into  the  interior. 
It  was  evident,  however,  from  the  number  of  hamlets  and 
scattered  houses,  and  the  smoke  rising  in  all  directions  from 
among  the  trees,  that  it  was  well  peopled.  The  inhabitants 
still  continued  to  enjoy  their  life  of  indolence  and  freedom, 
unmolested  by  the  ills  that  overwhelmed  the  neighboring 
island  of  Hayti.  The  time  had  arrived,  however,  when  they 
were  to  share  the  common  lot  of  their  fellow  savages,  and  to 
sink  beneath  the  yoke  of  the  white  man. 

At  fche  time  when  Nicholas  de  Ovando,  Governor  of 
Hiwpaniola,  undertook  to  lay  waste  the  great  province  of 
Higuey,  which  lay  at  the  eastern  end  of  Hayti,  he  sent,  as 
commander  of  part  of  the  troops,  a  veteran  soldier  named 


Sparest?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  537 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon.  He  was  a  native  of  Leon,  in  Spain, 
and  in  his  boyhood  had  been  page  to  Pedro  Nunez  de  Guz- 
man, Senor  of  Toral.*  From  an  early  age  he  had  been 
schooled  to  war,  and  had  served  in  the  various  campaigns 
against  the  Moors  of  Granada.  He  accompanied  Columbus 
in  his  second  voyage  in  1493,  and  was  afterward,  it  is  said, 
one  of  the  partisans  of  Francisco  Roldan,  in  his  rebellion 
against  the  admiral.  Having  distinguished  himself  hi  vari- 
ous battles  with  the  Indians,  and  acquired  a  name  for  saga- 
city as  well  as  valor,  he  received  a  command  subordinate  to 
Juan  de  Esquibel,  in  the  campaign  against  Higuey,  and 
seconded  his  chief  so  valiantly  in  that  sanguinary  expedition 
that  after  the  subjugation  of  the  province  he  was  appointed 
to  the  command  of  it  as  lieutenant  of  the  Governor  of 
Hispaniola. 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  had  all  the  impatience  of  quiet  life 
and  the  passion  for  exploit  of  a  veteran  campaigner.  He 
had  not  been  long  in  the  tranquil  command  of  his  province 
of  Higuey  before  he  began  to  cast  a  wistful  eye  toward  the 
green  mountains  of  Boriquen.  They  were  directly  opposite, 
and  but  twelve  or  fourteen  leagues  distant,  so  as  to  be  dis- 
tinctly seen  in  the  transparent  atmosphere  of  the  tropics. 
The  Indians  of  the  two  islands  frequently  visited  each  other, 
and  in  this  way  Juan  Ponce  received  the  usual  intelligence 
that  the  mountains  he  had  eyed  so  wistfully  abounded  with 
gold.  He  readily  obtained  permission  from  Governor  Ovando 
to  make  an  expedition  to  this  island,  and  embarked  in  the 
year  1508  in  a  caravel,  with  a  few  Spaniards  and  several 
Indian  interpreters  and  guides. 

After  an  easy  voyage  he  landed  on  the  woody  shores  of 
the  island,  near  to  the  residence  of  the  principal  cacique, 
Agueybana.  He  found  the  chieftain  seated  in  patriarchal 
style  under  the  shade  of  his  native  groves,  and  surrounded 
by  his  family,  consisting  of  his  mother,  stepfather,  brother, 
and  sister,  who  vied  with  each  other  in  paying  homage  to 

*  Incas,  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  Hist.  Florida,  t.  iv.,  c.  87. 


538  U/orKs  of  U/a8t>ii)$toi)  Irufi)$ 

the  strangers.  Juan  Ponce,  in  fact,  was  received  into  the 
bosom  of  the  family,  and  the  cacique  exchanged  names  with 
him,  which  is  the  Indian  pledge  of  perpetual  amity.  Juan 
Ponce  also  gave  Christian  names  to  the  mother  and  step- 
father of  the  cacique,  and  would  fain  have  baptized  them, 
but  they  declined  the  ceremony,  though  they  always  took  a 
pride  hi  the  names  thus  given  them. 

In  his  zeal  to  gratify  his  guests  the  cacique  took  them  to 
various  parts  of  the  island.  They  found  the  interior  to  cor- 
respond with  the  external  appearance.  It  was  wild  and 
mountainous,  but  magnificently  wooded,  with  deep  rich  val- 
leys fertilized  by  limpid  streams.  Juan  Ponce  requested  the 
cacique  to  reveal  to  him  the  riches  of  the  island.  The  simple 
Indian  showed  him  his  most  productive  fields  of  Yuca,  the 
groves  laden  with  the  most  delicious  fruit,  the  sweetest  and 
purest  fountains,  and  the  coolest  runs  of  water. 

Ponce  de  Leon  heeded  but  little  these  real  blessings,  and 
demanded  whether  the  island  produced  no  gold.  Upon  this, 
the  cacique  conducted  him  to  two  rivers,  the  Manatuabon  and 
the  Zebuco,  where  the  very  pebbles  seemed  richly  veined 
with  gold,  and  large  grains  shone  among  the  sand  through 
the  limpid  water.  Some  of  the  largest  of  these  were  gath- 
ered by  the  Indians  and  given  to  the  Spaniards.  The  quan- 
tity thus  procured  confirmed  the  hopes  of  Juan  Ponce ;  and 
leaving  several  of  his  companions  in  the  house  of  the  hospit- 
able cacique,  he  returned  to  Hayti  to  report  the  success  of 
his  expedition.  He  presented  the  specimens  of  gold  to  the 
Governor  Ovando,  who  assayed  them  in  a  crucible.  The  ore 
was  not  so  fine  as  that  of  Hispaniola,  but  as  it  was  supposed 
to  exist  in  greater  quantities,  the  governor  determined  on  the 
subjugation  of  the  island,  and  confided  the  enterprise  to  Juan 
Ponce  de  Leon. 


SpaijisI?  Voyages  of  Discovery  539 


CHAPTER   TWO 

JUAN  PONCE   ASPIRES   TO   THE    GOVERNMENT  OF   PORTO 
RICO— (1509) 

THE  natives  of  Boriquen  were  more  warlike  than  those 
of  Hispaniola ;  being  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms  from  the 
necessity  of  repelling  the  frequent  invasions  of  the  Caribs.  It 
was  supposed,  therefore,  that  the  conquest  of  their  island  would 
be  attended  with  some  difficulty,  and  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon 
made  another,  and,  as  it  were,  a  preparatory  visit,  to  make 
himself  acquainted  with  the  country,  and  with  the  nature 
and  resources  of  the  inhabitants.  He  found  the  companions 
whom  he  had  left  there  on  his  former  visit  in  good  health 
and  spirits,  and  full  of  gratitude  toward  the  cacique  Aguey- 
bana,  who  had  treated  them  with  undiminished  hospitality. 
There  appeared  to  be  no  need  of  violence  to  win  the  island 
from  such  simple-hearted  and  confiding  people.  Juan  Ponce 
flattered  himself  with  the  hopes  of  being  appointed  to  its 
goTernment  by  Ovando,  and  of  bringing  it  peaceably  into 
subjection.  After  remaining  some  time  on  the  island,  he 
returned  to  San  Domingo  to  seek  the  desired  appointment, 
but,  to  his  surprise,  found  the  whole  face  of  affairs  had 
changed  during  his  absence. 

His  patron,  the  Governor  Ovando,  had  been  recalled  to 
Spain,  and  Don  Diego  Columbus,  son  of  the  renowned  dis- 
coverer, appointed  in  his  place  to  the  command  at  San  Do- 
mingo. To  add  to  the  perplexities  of  Juan  Ponce,  a  cavalier 
had  already  arrived  from  Spain,  empowered  by  the  king  to 
form  a  settlement  and  build  a  fortress  on  the  island  of  Porto 
Rico.  His  name  was  Christoval  de  Sotomayor;  he  was 
brother  to  the  Count  of  Camina,  and  had  been  secretary 
to  Philip  I.,  surnamed  the  Handsome,  king  of  Castile,  and 
father  of  Charles  V. 


540  U/or^s  of 

Don  Diego  Columbus  was  highly  displeased  with  the  act 
of  the  king  in  granting  these  powers  to  Sotomayor,  as  it  had 
been  done  without  his  knowledge  and  consent,  and  of  course 
in  disregard  of  his  prerogative  as  viceroy,  to  be  consulted  as 
to  all  appointments  made  within  his  jurisdiction.  He  re- 
fused, therefore,  to  put  Sotomayor  in  possession  of  the  isl- 
and. He  paid  as  little  respect  to  the  claims  of  Juan  Ponce 
de  Leon,  whom  he  regarded  with  an  ungracious  eye  as  a 
favorite  of  his  predecessor  Ovando.  To  settle  the  matter 
effectually,  he  exerted  what  he  considered  his  official  and 
hereditary  privilege,  and  chose  officers  to  suit  himself,  ap- 
pointing one  Juan  Ceron  to  the  government  of  Porto  Rico, 
and  Miguel  Diaz  to  serve  as  his  lieutenant.* 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  and  his  rival  candidate,  Christoval 
de  Sotomayor,  bore  their  disappointment  with  a  good  grace. 
Though  the  command  was  denied  them,  they  still  hoped  to 
improve  their  fortunes  in  the  island,  and  accordingly  joined 
the  crowd  of  adventurers  that  accompanied  the  newly  ap- 
pointed governor. 

New  changes  soon  took  place  in  consequence  of  the  jeal- 
ousies and  misunderstandings  between  King  Ferdinand  and 
the  admiral  as  to  points  of  privilege.  The  former  still  seemed 
disposed  to  maintain  the  right  of  making  appointments  With- 
out consulting  Don  Diego,  and  exerted  it  in  the  present  in- 
stance; for,  when  Ovando,  on  his  return  to  Spain,  made 
favorable  representation  of  the  merits  of  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon,  and  set  forth  his  services  in  exploring  Porto  Rico, 
the  king  appointed  him  governor  of  that  island,  and  signified 
specifically  that  Don  Diego  Columbus  should  not  presume  to 
displace  him. 


*If  the  reader  has  perused  the  history  of  Columbus,  he  may  re- 
member the  romantic  adventure  of  this  Miguel  Diaz  with  a  female 
cacique,  which  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  gold-mines  of  Hayna  and  the 
founding  of  the  city  of  San  Domingo. 


Spatial?  Voyages  of  Discovery  541 


CHAPTER  THREE 

JUAN  PONCE  RULES  WITH  A  STRONG  HAND— EXASPERA- 
TION OF  THE  INDIANS— THEIR  EXPERIMENT  TO  PROVE 
WHETHER  THE  SPANIARDS  WERE  MORTAL 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  assumed  the  command  of  the  isl- 
and of  Boriquen  in  the  year  1509.  Being  a  fiery,  high- 
handed old  soldier,  his  first  step  was  to  quarrel  with  Juan 
Ceron  and  Miguel  Diaz,  the  ex-governor  and  his  lieutenant, 
and  to  send  them  prisoners  to  Spain.* 

He  was  far  more  favorable  to  his  late  competitor,  Chris- 
toval  de  Sotomayor.  Finding  him  to  be  a  cavalier  of  noble 
blood  and  high  connections,  yet  void  of  pretension,  and  of 
most  accommodating  temper,  he  offered  to  make  him  his 
lieutenant,  and  to  give  him  the  post  of  alcalde  mayor,  an  offer 
which  was  very  thankfully  accepted. 

The  pride  of  rank,  however,  which  follows  a  man  even 
into  the  wilderness,  soon  interfered  with  the  quiet  of  Soto- 
mayor; he  was  ridiculed  for  descending  so  m.-.ch  below  his 
birth  and  dignity  as  to  accept  a  subaltern  situation  to  a  sim- 
ple gentleman  in  the  island  which  he  had  originally  aspired 
to  govern.  He  could  not  withstand  these  sneers,  but  re- 
signed his  appointment,  and  remained  in  the  island  as  a  pri- 
vate individual ;  establishing  himself  in  a  village  where  he 
had  a  large  repartimiento  or  allotment  of  Indians  assigned  to 
him  by  a  grant  from  the  king. 

Juan  Ponce  fixed  his  seat  of  government  in  a  town  called 
Caparra,  which  he  founded  on  the  northern  side  of  the  isl- 
and, about  a  league  from  the  sea,  in  a  neighborhood  sup- 
posed to  abound  in  gold.  It  was  in  front  of  the  port  called 

*  Herrera,  decad.  i.,  1.  vii.,  c.  13. 


542  U/or^s  of 

Rico,  which  subsequently  gave  its  name  to  the  island.  The 
road  to  the  town  was  up  a  mountain,  through  a  dense  forest, 
and  so  rugged  and  miry  that  it  was  the  bane  of  man  and 
beast.  It  cost  more  to  convey  provisions  and  merchandise 
up  this  league  of  mountain  than  it  had  to  bring  them  from 
Spain. 

Juan  Ponce,  being  firmly  seated  in  his  government,  be- 
gan to  carve  and  portion  out  the  island,  to  found  towns,  and 
to  distribute  the  natives  into  repartimientos,  for  the  purpose 
of  exacting  their  labor. 

The  poor  Indians  soon  found  the  difference  between  the 
Spaniards  as  guests  and  the  Spaniards  as  masters.  They 
were  driven  to  despair  by  the  heavy  tasks  imposed  upon 
them ;  for  to  their  free  spirits  and  indolent  habits  restraint 
and  labor  were  worse  than  death.  Many  of  the  most  hardy 
and  daring  proposed  a  general  insurrection,  and  a  massacre 
of  their  oppressors ;  the  great  mass,  however,  were  deterred 
by  the  belief  that  the  Spaniards  were  supernatural  beings 
and  could  not  be  killed. 

A  shrewd  and  skeptical  cacique  named  Brayoan  deter- 
mined to  put  their  immortality  to  the  test.  Hearing  that 
a  young  Spaniard  named  Salzedo  was  passing  through  his 
lands,  he  sent  a  party  of  his  subjects  to  escort  him,  giving 
them  secret  instructions  how  they  were  to  act.  On  coming 
to  a  river  they  took  Salzedo  on  their  shoulders  to  carry  him 
across,  but,  when  in  the  midst  of  the  stream,  they  let  him 
fall,  and,  throwing  themselves  upon  him,  pressed  him  under 
water  until  he  was  drowned.  Then  dragging  his  body  to 
the  shore,  and  still  doubting  his  being  dead,  they  wept 
and  howled  over  him,  making  a  thousand  apologies  for 
having  fallen  upon  him,  and  kept  him  so  long  beneath  the 
surface. 

The  cacique  Brayoan  came  to  examine  the  body  and  pro- 
nounced it  lifeless;  but  the  Indians,  still  fearing  it  might 
possess  lurking  immortality  and  ultimately  revive,  kept 
watch  over  it  for  three  days,  until  it  showed  incontestable 
signs  of  putrefaction. 


Spapisl?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  5-13 

Being  now  convinced  that  the  strangers  were  mortal  men 
like  themselves,  they  readily  entered  into  a  general  conspiracy 
to  destroy  them.* 


CHAPTER   FOUR 

CONSPIRACY   OF   THE  CACIQUES— THE    FATE   OF   SOTOMAYOB 

THE  prime  mover  of  the  conspiracy  among  the  natives 
was  Agueybana,  brother  and  successor  to  the  hospitable 
cacique  of  the  same  name,  who  had  first  welcomed  the 
Spaniards  to  the  island,  and  who  had  fortunately  closed  his 
eyes  in  peace  before  his  native  groves  were  made  the  scenes 
of  violence  and  oppression.  The  present  cacique  had  fallen 
within  the  repartimiento  of  Don  Christoval  de  Sotomayor, 
and,  though  treated  by  that  cavalier  with  kindness,  could 
never  reconcile  his  proud  spirit  to  the  yoke  of  vassalage. 

Agueybana  held  secret  councils  with  his  confederate  ca- 
ciques, in  which  they  concerted  a  plan  of  operations.  As 
the  Spaniards  were  scattered  about  in  different  places,  it  was 
agreed  that,  at  a  certain  time,  each  cacique  should  dispatch 
those  within  his  province.  In  arranging  the  massacre  of 
those  within  his  own  domains,  Agueybana  assigned  to  one 
of  his  inferior  caciques  the  task  of  surprising  the  village  of 
Sotomayor,  giving  him  three  thousand  warriors  for  the  pur- 
pose. He  was  to  assail  the  village  in  the  dead  of  the  night, 
to  set  fire  to  the  houses,  and  to  slaughter  all  the  inhabitants. 
He  proudly,  however,  reserved  to  himself  the  honor  of  kill- 
ing Don  Christoval  with  his  own  hand. 

Don  Christoval  had  an  unsuspected  friend  in  the  very 
midst  of  his  enemies.  Being  a  cavalier  of  gallant  appear- 
ance and  amiable  and  courteous  manners,  he  had  the  won 
the  affections  of  an  Indian  princess,  the  sister  of  the  cacique 
Agueybana.  She  had  overheard  enough  of  the  war -council 

*Herrera,  decad.  i.,  1.  viii.,  c.  13. 


544  U/orKs  of 

of  her  brother  and  his  warriors  to  learn  that  Sotomayor  was 
in  danger.  The  life  of  her  lover  was  more  precious  in  her 
eyes  than  the  safety  of  her  brother  and  her  tribe ;  hastening, 
therefore,  to  him,  she  told  him  all  that  she  knew  or  feared, 
and  warned  him  to  be  upon  his  guard.  Sotomayor  appears 
to  have  been  of  the  most  easy  and  incautious  nature,  void  of 
all  evil  and  deceit  himself,  and  slow  to  suspect  anything  of 
the  kind  hi  others.  He  considered  the  apprehension  of  the 
princess  as  dictated  by  her  fond  anxiety,  and  neglected  to 
profit  by  her  warning. 

He  received,  however,  about  the  same  tune,  information 
from  a  different  quarter,  tending  to  the  same  point.  A  Span- 
iard, versed  in  the  language  and  customs  of  the  natives,  had 
observed  a  number  gathering  together  one  evening,  painted 
and  decorated  as  if  for  battle.  Suspecting  some  lurking  mis- 
chief, he  stripped  and  painted  himself  in  their  manner,  and, 
favored  by  the  obscurity  of  the  night,  succeeded  in  mingling 
among  them  undiscovered.  They  were  assembled  round  a 
fire  performing  one  of  their  mystic  war-dances,  to  the  chant 
of  an  Areyto  or  legendary  ballad.  The  strophes  and  responses 
treated  of  revenge  and  slaughter,  and  repeatedly  mentioned 
the  death  of  Sotomayor. 

The  Spaniard  withdrew  unperceived,  and  hastened  to  ap- 
prise Don  Christoval  of  his  danger.  The  latter  still  made 
light  of  these  repeated  warnings ;  revolving  them,  however, 
in  his  mind  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  he  began  to  feel  some 
uneasiness,  and  determined  to  repair  hi  the  morning  to  Juan 
Ponce  de  Leon,  in  his  stronghold  at  Caparra.  With  his  fated 
heedlessness,  or  temerity,  however,  he  applied  to  Agueybana 
for  Indians  to  carry  his  baggage,  and  departed  slightly  armed, 
and  accompanied  by  but  three  Spaniards,  although  he  had  to 
pass  through  close  and  lonely  forests,  where  he  would  be  at 
the  mercy  of  any  treacherous  or  lurking  foe. 

The  cacique  watched  the  departure  of  his  intended  victim 
and  set  out  shortly  afterward,  dogging  his  steps  at  a  distance 
through  the  forest,  accompanied  by  a  few  chosen  warriors, 
Agueybana  and  his  party  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they 


Spai)isl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  545 

met  a  Spaniard  named  Juan  Gonzalez,  who  spoke  the  Indian 
language.  They  immediately  assailed  him  and  wounded 
him  in  several  places.  He  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the 
cacique,  imploring  his  life  in  the  most  abject  terms.  The 
chief  spared  him  for  the  moment,  being  eager  to  make  sure 
of  Don  Christoval.  He  overtook  that  incautious  cavalier  hi 
the  very  heart  of  the  woodland,  and  stealing  silently  upon 
him,  burst  forth  suddenly  with  his  warriors  from  the  covert 
of  the  thickets,  giving  the  fatal  war-whoop.  Before  Soto- 
mayor  could  put  himself  upon  his  guard  a  blow  from  the  war 
club  of  the  cacique  felled  him  to  the  earth,  when  he  was 
quickly  dispatched  by  repeated  blows.  The  four  Spaniards 
who  accompanied  him  shared  his  fate,  being  assailed,  not 
merely  by  the  warriors  who  had  come  in  pursuit  of  them, 
but  by  their  own  Indian  guides. 

When  Agueybana  had  glutted  his  vengeance  on  this  un- 
fortunate cavalier,  he  returned  in  quest  of  Juan  Gonzalez. 
The  latter,  however,  had  recovered  sufficiently  from  his 
wounds  to  leave  the  place  where  he  had  been  assailed,  and, 
dreading  the  return  of  the  savages,  had  climbed  into  a  tree 
and  concealed  himself  among  the  branches.  From  thence, 
with  trembling  anxiety,  he  watched  his  pursuers  as  they 
searched  all  the  surrounding  forest  for  him.  Fortunately 
they  did  not  think  of  looking  up  into  the  trees,  but,  after 
beating  the  bushes  for  some  time,  gave  up  the  search. 
Though  he  saw  them  depart,  yet  he  did  not  venture  from 
his  concealment  until  the  night  had  closed ;  he  then  descended 
from  the  tree  and  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  residence 
of  certain  Spaniards,  where  his  wounds  were  dressed.  When 
this  was  done  he  waited  not  to  take  repose,  but  repaired  by 
a  circuitous  route  to  Caparra,  and  informed  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon  of  the  danger  he  supposed  to  be  still  impending  over 
Sotomayor,  for  he  knew  not  that  the  enemy  had  accomplished 
his  death.  Juan  Ponce  immediately  sent  out  forty  men  to 
his  relief.  They  came  to  the  scene  of  massacre,  where  they 
found  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  cavalier,  partly  buried, 
but  with  the  feet  out  of  the  earth. 


546  U/orl^s  of 

In  the  meantime  the  savages  had  accomplished  the  de- 
struction of  the  village  of  Sotomayor.  They  approached  it 
unperceived,  through  the  surrounding  forest,  and  entering- 
it  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  set  fire  to  the  straw-thatched 
houses,  and  attacked  the  Spaniards  as  they  endeavored  to 
escape  from  the  flames. 

Several  were  slain  at  the  onset,  but  a  brave  Spaniard 
named  Diego  de  Salazar  rallied  his  countrymen,  inspirited 
them  to  beat  off  the  enemy,  and  succeeded  in  conducting  the 
greater  part  of  them,  though  sorely  mangled  and  harassed, 
to  the  stronghold  of  the  governor  at  Caparra.  Scarcely  had 
these  fugitives  gained  the  fortress,  when  others  came  hurry- 
ing hi  from  all  quarters,  bringing  similar  tales  of  conflagra- 
tion and  massacre.  For  once  a  general  insurrection,  so  often 
planned  in  savage  life,  against  the  domination  of  the  white 
men,  was  crowned  with  success.  All  the  villages  founded 
by  the  Spaniards  had  been  surprised,  about  a  hundred  of 
their  inhabitants  destroyed,  and  the  survivors  driven  to  take 
refuge  in  a  beleaguered  fortress. 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

WAR  OP  JUAN   PONCE  WITH   THE    CACIQUE  AGUEYBANA 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  might  now  almost  be  considered  a 
governor  without  territories,  and  a  general  without  soldiers. 
His  villages  were  smoking  ruins,  and  his  whole  force  did  not 
amount  to  a  hundred  men,  several  of  whom  were  disabled  by 
their  wounds.  He  had  an  able  and  implacable  foe  in  Aguey- 
bana,  who  took  the  lead  of  all  the  other  caciques,  and  even 
sent  envoys  to  the  Caribs  of  the  neighboring  islands,  entreat- 
ing them  to  forget  all  ancient  animosities,  and  to  make  com- 
mon cause  against  these  strangers — the  deadly  enemies  of  the 
whole  Indian  race.  In  the  meantime  the  whole  of  this  wild 
island  was  in  rebellion,  and  the  forests  around  the  fortress  of 
Caparra  rang  with  the  whoops  and  yells  of  the  savages,  the 


Spaijisl?  Uoya<$e»  of  Diseouery  547 

blasts  of  their  war  conchs,  and  the  stormy  roaring  of  their 
drums. 

Juan  Ponce  was  a  stanch  and  wary  old  soldier,  and  not 
easily  daunted.  He  remained  grimly  ensconced  within  his 
fortress,  from  whence  he  dispatched  messengers  in  all  haste 
to  Hispaniola,  imploring  immediate  assistance.  In  the  mean- 
time he  tasked  his  wits  to  divert  the  enemy  and  to  keep  them 
at  bay.  He  divided  his  little  force  into  three  bodies  of  about 
thirty  men  each,  under  the  command  of  Diego  Salazar,  Mig- 
uel de  Toro,  and  Luis  de  Anasco,  and  sent  them  out  alter- 
nately to  make  sudden  surprises  and  assaults,  to  form  am- 
buscades, and  to  practice  the  other  stratagems  of  partisan 
warfare,  which  he  had  learned  in  early  life,  in  his  campaigns 
against  the  Moors  of  Granada. 

One  of  his  most  efficient  warriors  was  a  dog  named  Be- 
rezillo,  renowned  for  courage,  strength,  and  sagacity.  It  is 
said  that  he  could  distinguish  those  of  the  Indians  who  were 
allies  from  those  who  were  enemies  of  the  Spaniards.  To 
the  former  he  was  docile  and  friendly,  to  the  latter  fierce  and 
implacable.  He  was  the  terror  of  the  natives,  who  were  un- 
accustomed to  powerful  and  ferocious  animals,  and  did  more 
service  in  this  wild  warfare  than  could  have  been  rendered 
by  several  soldiers.  His  prowess  was  so  highly  appreciated 
that  his  master  received  for  him  the  pay,  allowance,  and 
share  of  booty,  assigned  to  a  crossbow  man,  which  was  the 
highest  stipend  given.* 

At  length  the  stout  old  cavalier  Juan  Ponce  was  re-en- 
forced in  his  stronghold  by  troops  from  Hispaniola,  where- 
upon he  sallied  forth  boldly  to  take  revenge  upon  those  who 
had  thus  held  him  in  a  kind  of  durance.  His  foe  Agueybana 

*  This  famous  dog  was  killed  some  years  afterward  by  a  poisoned 
arrow  as  he  was  swimming  in  the  sea  in  pursuit  of  a  Carib  Indian.  He 
left,  however,  a  numerous  progeny  and  a  great  name  behind  him,  and 
his  merits  and  exploits  were  long  a  favorite  theme  among  the  Spanish 
colonists.  He  was  father  to  the  renowned  Leoncico,  the  faithful  dog 
of  Vasco  Nufiez,  which  resembled  him  in  looks  and  equaled  him  in 
prowess. 


548  U/orKs  of  Wa8l?ii}<Jtoi} 

was  at  that  time  encamped  in  his  own  territories  with  more 
than  five  thousand  warriors,  but  in  a  negligent,  unwatchf ul 
state,  for  he  knew  nothing  of  the  re-enforcements  of  the  Span- 
iards, and  supposed  Juan  Ponce  shut  up  with  his  handful  of 
men  in  Caparra.  The  old  soldier,  therefore,  took  him  com- 
pletely by  surprise,  and  routed  him  with  great  slaughter. 
Indeed,  it  is  said  the  Indians  were  struck  with  a  kind  of 
panic  when  they  saw  the  Spaniards  as  numerous  as  ever, 
notwithstanding  the  number  they  had  massacred.  Their 
belief  in  their  immortality  revived ;  they  fancied  that  those 
whom  they  had  slain  had  returned  to  life,  and  they  despaired 
of  victory  over  beings  who  could  thus  arise  with  renovated 
vigor  from  the  grave. 

Various  petty  actions  and  skirmishes  afterward  took  place, 
in  which  the  Indians  were  defeated.  Agueybana,  however, 
disdained  this  petty  warfare,  and  stirred  up  his  countrymen 
to  assemble  their  forces,  and  by  one  grand  assault  to  decide 
the  fate  of  themselves  and  their  island.  Juan  Ponce  received 
secret  tidings  of  their  intent,  and  of  the  place  where  they 
were  assembling.  He  had  at  that  time  barely  eighty  men  at 
his  disposal,  but  then  they  were  cased  in  steel  and  proof 
against  the  weapons  of  the  savages.  Without  stopping  to 
reflect,  the  high-mettled  old  cavalier  put  himself  at  their  head 
and  led  them  through  the  forest  in  quest  of  the  foe. 

It  was  nearly  sunset  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Indian 
camp,  and  the  multitude  of  warriors  assembled  there  made 
him  pause,  and  almost  repent  of  his  temerity.  He  was  as 
shrewd,  however,  as  he  was  hardy  and  resolute.  Ordering 
some  of  his  men  in  the  advance  to  skirmish  with  the  enemy, 
he  hastily  threw  up  a  slight  fortification  with  the  assistance 
of  the  rest.  "When  it  was  finished  he  withdrew  his  forces 
into  it  and  ordered  them  to  keep  merely  on  the  defensive. 
The  Indians  made  repeated  attacks,  but  were  as  often  re- 
pulsed with  loss.  Some  of  the  Spaniards,  impatient  of  this 
covert  warfare,  would  sally  forth  in  open  field  with  pike  and 
crossbow,  but  were  called  back  within  the  fortification  by 
their  wary  commander. 


Sparjisl?  Uoya^es  of  Diseouery  549 

The  cacique  Agueybana  was  enraged  at  finding  his  host 
of  warriors  thus  baffled  and  kept  at  bay  by  a  mere  handful 
of  Spaniards.  He  beheld  the  night  closing  in,  and  feared 
that  in  the  darkness  the  enemy  would  escape.  Summoning 
his  choicest  warriors  round  him,  therefore,  he  led  the  way  in 
a  general  assault,  when,  as  he  approached  the  fortress,  he 
received  a  mortal  wound  from  an  arquebuse  and  fell  dead 
upon  the  spot. 

The  Spaniards  were  not  aware  at  first  of  the  importance 
of  the  chief  whom  they  had  slain.  They  soon  surmised  it, 
however,  from  the  confusion  that  ensued  among  the  enemy, 
who  bore  off  the  body  with  great  lamentations,  and  made  no 
further  attack. 

The  wary  Juan  Ponce  took  advantage  of  the  evident  dis. 
tress  of  the  foe  to  draw  off  his  small  forces  in  the  night, 
happy  to  get  out  of  the  terrible  jeopardy  into  which  a  rash 
confidence  had  betrayed  him.  Some  of  his  fiery-spirited 
officers  would  have  kept  the  field  in  spite  of  the  overwhelm  • 
ing  force  of  the  enemy.  "No,  no,"  said  the  shrewd  veteran; 
"it  is  better  to  protract  the  war  than  to  risk  all  upon  a  single 
battle." 

"While  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  was  fighting  hard  to  maintain 
his  sway  over  the  island,  his  transient  dignity  was  overturned 
by  another  power,  against  which  the  prowess  of  the  old  sol- 
dier was  of  no  avail.  King  Ferdinand  had  repented  of  the 
step  he  had  ill-advisedly  taken  in  superseding  the  governor 
and  lieutenant-governor  appointed  by  Don  Diego  Columbus. 
He  became  convinced,  though  rather  tardily,  that  it  was  an 
infringement  of  the  rights  of  the  admiral,  and  that  policy,  as 
well  as  justice,  required  him  to  retract  it.  When  Juan  Ceron 
and  Miguel  Diaz,  therefore,  came  prisoners  to  Spain,  he  re- 
ceived them  graciously,  conferred  many  favors  on  them  to 
atone  for  their  rough  ejectment  from  office,  and  finally,  after 
some  time,  sent  them  back,  empowered  to  resume  the  com- 
mand of  the  island.  They  were  ordered,  however,  on  no 
account  to  manifest  rancor  or  ill-will  against  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon,  or  to  interfere  with  any  property  he  might  hold,  either 


550  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)<$toi)  Irvii)$ 

in  houses,  lands,  or  Indians ;  but  on  the  contrary,  to  cultivate 
the  most  friendly  understanding  with  him.  The  king  also 
wrote  to  the  hardy  veteran  explaining  to  him  that  this  resti- 
tution of  Ceron  and  Diaz  had  been  determined  upon  in  coun- 
cil, as  a  mere  act  of  justice  due  to  them,  but  was  not  intended 
as  a  censure  upon  his  conduct,  and  that  means  should  be 
sought  to  indemnify  him  for  the  loss  of  his  command. 

By  the  time  the  governor  and  his  lieutenant  reached  the 
island,  Juan  Ponce  had  completed  its  subjugation.  The 
death  of  the  island  champion,  the  brave  Agueybana,  had 
in  fact  been  a  death  blow  to  the  natives,  and  shows  how 
much,  in  savage  warfare,  depends  upon  a  single  chieftain. 
They  never  made  head  of  war  afterward;  but,  disposing 
among  their  forests  and  mountains,  fell  gradually  under  the 
power  of  the  Spaniards.  Their  subsequent  fate  was  like  that 
of  their  neighbors  of  Hayti.  They  were  employed  in  the 
labor  of  the  mines,  and  in  other  rude  toils  so  repugnant  to 
their  nature  that  they  sank  beneath  them,  and,  in  a  little 
while,  almost  all  the  aboriginals  disappeared  from  the  island. 


CHAPTER  SIX 

JUAN  PONCE   DE   LEON   HEARS   OF  A  WONDERFUL    COUNTRY 
AND   MIRACULOUS   FOUNTAIN 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  resigned  the  command  of  Porto 
Rico  with  tolerable  grace.  The  loss  of  one  wild  island  and 
wild  government  was  of  little  moment,  when  there  was  a 
New  World  to  be  shared  out,  where  a  bold  soldier  like  him- 
self, with  sword  and  buckler,  might  readily  carve  out  new 
fortunes  for  himself.  Besides,  he  had  now  amassed  wealth 
to  assist  him  in  his  plans,  and,  like  many  of  the  early  discov- 
erers, his  brain  was  teeming  with  the  most  romantic  enter- 
prises. He  had  conceived  the  idea  that  there  was  yet  a  third 
world  to  be  discovered,  and  he  hoped  to  be  the  first  to  reach 


Sparjisl?  l/oya^es  of  Diseouery  551 

its  shores,  and  thus  to  secure  a  renown  equal  to  that  of  Co- 
lumbus. 

While  cogitating  these  things,  and  considering  which  way 
he  should  strike  forth  in  the  unexplored  regions  around  hin^ 
he  met  with  some  old  Indians  who  gave  him  tidings  of  a 
country  which  promised,  not  merely  to  satisfy  the  cravings 
of  his  ambition,  but  to  realize  the  fondest  dreams  of  the  poets. 
They  assured  him  that,  far  to  the  north,  there  existed  a  land 
abounding  in  gold  and  in  all  manner  of  delights;  but,  above 
all,  possessing  a  river  of  such  wonderful  virtue  that  whoever 
bathed  in  it  would  be  restored  to  youth !  They  added  that  in 
times  past,  before  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards,  a  large  party 
of  the  natives  of  Cuba  had  departed  northward  in  search  of 
this  happy  land  and  this  river  of  life,  and,  having  never  re- 
turned, it  was  concluded  that  they  were  flourishing  in  reno- 
vated youth,  detained  by  the  pleasures  of  that  enchanting 
country. 

Here  was  the  dream  of  the  alchemist  realized !  One  had 
but  to  find  this  gifted  land  and  revel  in  the  enjoyment  of 
boundless  riches  and  perennial  youth!  Nay,  some  of  the  an- 
cient Indians  declared  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  go  so  far 
in  quest  of  these  rejuvenating  waters,  for  that,  in  a  certain 
island  of  the  Bahama  group,  called  Bimini,  which  lay  far  out 
in  the  ocean,  there  was  a  fountain  possessing  the  same  mar- 
velous and  inestimable  qualities. 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  listened  to  these  tales  with  fond  cre- 
dulity. He  was  advancing  in  life,  and  the  ordinary  term  of 
existence  seemed  insufficient  for  his  mighty  plans.  Could  he 
but  plunge  into  this  marvelous  fountain  or  gifted  river,  and 
come  out  with  his  battered,  war-worn  body  restored  to  the 
strength  and  freshness  and  suppleness  of  youth,  and  his  head 
still  retaining  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  age,  what  en- 
terprises might  he  not  accomplish  in  the  additional  course  of 
vigorous  years  insured  to  him ! 

It  may  seem  incredible,  at  the  present  day,  that  a  man  of 
years  and  experience  could  yield  any  faith  to  a  story  which 
resembles  the  wild  fiction  of  an  Arabian  tale ;  but  the  won- 


552  U/orl^s  of  U/asl?ii)$tor> 

ders  and  novelties  breaking  upon  the  world  in  that  age  01 
discovery  almost  realized  the  illusions  of  fable,  and  the  im- 
aginations of  the  Spanish  voyagers  had  become  so  heated 
that  they  were  capable  of  any  stretch  of  credulity. 

So  fully  persuaded  was  the  worthy  old  cavalier  of  the 
existence  of  the  region  described  to  him  that  he  fitted  out 
three  ships  at  his  own  expense  to  prosecute  the  discovery, 
nor  had  he  any  difficulty  in  finding  adventurers  in  abundance 
ready  to  cruise  with  him  in  quest  of  this  fairyland.* 


CHAPTER   SEVEN 

CRUISE  OF  JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE 
FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH— (1512) 

IT  was  on  the  third  of  March,  1512,  that  Juan  Ponce 
sailed  with  his  three  ships  from  the  Port  of  St.  Germain  in 
the  island  of  Porto  Rico.  He  kept  for  some  distance  along 
the  coast  of  Hispaniola,  and  then,  stretching  away  to  the 
northward,  made  for  the  Bahama  islands,  and  soon  fell  in 
with  the  first  of  the  group.  He  was  favored  with  propitious 

*  It  was  not  the  credulous  minds  of  voyagers  and  adventurers  alone 
that  were  heated  by  these  Indian  traditions  and  romantic  fables.  Men 
of  learning  and  eminence  were  likewise  beguiled  by  them;  witness  the 
following  extract  from  the  second  decade  of  Peter  Martyr,  addressed  to 
Leo  X.,  then  Bishop  of  Rome:  "Among  the  islands  on  the  north  side 
of  Hispaniola  there  is  one  about  325  leagues  distant,  as  they  say  which 
have  searched  the  same,  in  the  which  is  a  continual  spring  of  running 
water,  of  such  marvelous  virtue  that  the  water  thereof  being  drunk, 
perhaps  with  some  diet,  maketh  olde  men  young  again.  And  here  I 
must  make  protestation  to  your  holiness  not  to  think  this  to  be  said 
lightly  or  rashly,  for  they  have  so  spread  this  rumour  for  a  truth 
throughout  all  the  court,  that  not  only  all  the  people,  but  also  many 
of  them  whom  wisdom  or  fortune  hath  divided  from  the  common  sort, 
think  it  to  be  true;  but,  if  you  will  ask  my  opinion  herein,  I  will  answer 
that  I  will  not  attribute  so  great  power  to  nature,  but  that  God  hath 
no  lesse  preserved  this  prerogative  to  Himself  than  to  search  the 
hearts  of  men,"  etc. — P.  Martyr,  d.  ii.,  c.  10.  LoVs  translation. 


Voyages  of  Discovery  553 

weather  and  tranquil  seas,  and  glided  smoothly  with  wind 
and  current  along  that  verdant  archipelago,  visiting  one  isl- 
and after  another,  until,  on  the  fourteenth  of  the  month,  he 
arrived  at  Guanahani,  or  San  Salvador's,  where  Christopher 
Columbus  had  first  put  his  foot  on  the  shores  of  the  New 
World.  His  inquiries  for  the  island  of  Bimini  were  all  in 
vain,  and  as  to  the  fountain  of  youth,  he  may  have  drunk 
of  every  fountain,  and  river,  and  lake  in  the  archipelago, 
even  to  the  salt  pools  of  Turk's  Island,  without  being  a  whit 
the  younger. 

Still  he  was  not  discouraged ;  but,  having  repaired  his 
ships,  he  again  put  to  sea  and  shaped  his  course  to  the  north- 
west. On  Sunday,  the  27th  of  March,  he  came  in  sight  of 
what  he  supposed  to  be  an  island,  but  was  prevented  from 
landing  by  adverse  weather.  He  continued  hovering  about 
it  for  several  days,  buffeted  by  the  elements,  until,  in  the 
night  of  the  second  of  April,  he  succeeded  in  coming  to 
anchor  under  the  land  in  thirty  degrees  eight  minutes  of 
latitude.  The  whole  country  was  in  the  fresh  bloom  of 
spring;  the  trees  were  gay  with  blossoms,  and  the  fields 
covered  with  flowers;  from  which  circumstance,  as  well  as 
from  having  discovered  it  on  Palm  Sunday  (Pascua  Florida), 
he  gave  it  the  name  of  Florida,  which  it  retains  to  the  pres- 
ent day.  The  Indian  name  of  the  country  was  Cautio.* 

Juan  Ponce  landed,  and  took  possession  of  the  country  hi 
the  name  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  He  afterward  con- 
tinued for  several  weeks  ranging  the  coasts  of  this  flowery 
land,  and  struggling  against  the  Gulf  Stream  and  the  vari- 
ous currents  which  sweep  it.  He  doubled  Cape  Canaveral, 
and  reconnoitered  the  southern  and  eastern  shores  without 
suspecting  that  this  was  a  part  of  Terra  Firma.  In  all  his 
attempts  to  explore  the  country  he  met  with  resolute  and 
implacable  hostility  on  the  part  of  the  natives,  who  appeared 
to  be  a  fierce  and  warlike  race.  He  was  disappointed  also 
hi  his  hopes  of  finding  gold,  nor  did  any  of  the  rivers  or 

*Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.,  d.  i.,  1.  ix.,  c.  10. 

*  *  *  X  VOL.  V. 


554  U/orl<8  of 

fountains  which  he  examined  possess  the  rejuvenating  virtue. 
Convinced,  therefore,  that  this  was  not  the  promised  land  of 
Indian  tradition,  he  turned  his  prow  homeward  on  the  14th 
of  June,  with  the  intention  in  the  way  of  making  one  more 
attempt  to  find  the  island  of  Bimini. 

In  the  outset  of  his  return  he  discovered  a  group  of  islets 
abounding  with  sea-fowl  and  marine  animals.  On  one  of 
them  his  sailors,  in  the  course  of  a  single  night,  caught  one 
hundred  and  seventy  turtles,  and  might  have  taken  many 
more  had  they  been  so  inclined.  They  likewise  took  four- 
teen sea  wolves,  and  killed  a  vast  quantity  of  pelicans  and 
other  birds.  To  this  group  Juan  Ponce  gave  the  name  of 
the  Tortugas,  or  Turtles,  which  they  still  retain. 

Proceeding  in  his  cruise,  he  touched  at  another  group  of 
islets  near  the  Lucayos,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  La 
Vieja,  or  the  Old  Woman  group,  because  he  found  no  inhab- 
itant there  but  one  old  Indian  woman.*  This  ancient  sybil 
he  took  on  board  his  ship  to  give  him  information  about  the 
labyrinth  of  islands  into  which  he  was  entering,  and  perhaps 
he  could  not  have  had  a  more  suitable  guide  in  the  eccentric 
quest  he  was  making.  Notwithstanding  her  pilotage,  how- 
ever, he  was  exceedingly  baffled  and  perplexed  in  his  return 
voyage  among  the  Bahama  islands,  for  he  was  forcing  his 
way,  as  it  were,  against  the  course  of  nature,  and  encounter' 
ing  the  currents  which  sweep  westward  along  these  islands, 
and  the  trade- wind  which  accompanies  them.  For  a  long 
time  he  struggled  with  all  kinds  of  difficulties  and  dangers ; 
and  was  obliged  to  remain  upward  of  a  month  in  one  of  the 
islands  to  repair  the  damages  which  his  ship  had  suffered  in 
a  storm. 

Disheartened  at  length  by  the  perils  and  trials  with  which 
nature  seemed  to  have  beset  the  approach  to  Bimini,  as  to 
some  fairy  island  in  romance,  he  gave  up  the  quest  in  per- 
son, and  sent  in  his  place  a  trusty  captain,  Juan  Perez  d« 
Ortubia,  who  departed  in  one  of  the  other  ships,  guided  by 

*Herrera,  d.  i.,  1.  ix. 


Spaijisl?  Voyages  of  Diseouery  555 

the  experienced  old  woman  of  the  isles,  and  by  another  In- 
dian. As  to  Juan  Ponce,  he  made  the  best  of  his  way  back 
to  Porto  Rico,  where  he  arrived  infinitely  poorer  in  purse  and 
wrinkled  in  brow,  by  this  cruise  after  inexhaustible  riches 
and  perpetual  youth. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  port  when  his  trusty  envoy,  Juan 
Perez,  likewise  arrived.  Guided  by  the  sage  old  woman,  he 
had  succeeded  in  finding  the  long-sought-for  Bimini.  He 
described  it  as  being  large,  verdant,  and  covered  with  beauti- 
ful groves.  There  were  crystal  springs  and  limpid  streams 
in  abundance,  which  kept  the  island  in  perpetual  verdure, 
but  none  that  could  restore  to  an  old  man  the  vernal  green- 
ness of  his  youth. 

Thus  ended  the  romantic  expedition  of  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon.  Like  many  other  pursuits  of  a  chimera,  it  terminated 
in  the  acquisition  of  a  substantial  good.  Though  he  had 
failed  in  finding  the  fairy  fountain  of  youth,  he  had  discov- 
ered in  place  of  it  the  important  country  of  Florida.* 


CHAPTER    EIGHT 

EXPEDITION   OF   JUAN  PONCE  AGAINST  THE  CARIES— HIS 
DEATH— (1514) 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  now  repaired  to  Spain  to  make  a 
report  of  his  voyage  to  King  Ferdinand.  The  hardy  old 
cavalier  experienced  much  raillery  from  the  witlings  of  the 

*The  belief  of  the  existence,  in  Florida,  of  a  river  like  that  sought 
by  Juan  Ponce,  was  long  prevalent  among  the  Indians  of  Cuba,  and  the 
caciques  were  anxious  to  discover  it.  That  a  party  of  the  natives  of 
Cuba  once  went  in  search  of  it,  and  remained  there,  appears  to  be  a 
fact,  as  their  descendants  were  afterward  to  be  traced  among  the 
people  of  Florida.  Las  Casas  says  that,  even  in  his  days,  many  per- 
sisted in  seeking  this  mystery,  and  some  thought  that  the  river  was  no 
other  than  that  called  the  Jordan,  at  the  point  of  St.  Helena;  without 
considering  that  the  name  was  given  to  it  by  the  Spaniards  in  the  year 
1520,  when  they  discovered  the  land  of  Chicora. 


556  U/or^g  of 

court  on  account  of  his  visionary  voyage,  though  many  wise 
men  had  been  as  credulous  as  himself  at  the  outset.  The 
king,  however,  received  him  with  great  favor,  and  conferred 
on  him  the  title  of  adelantado  of  Bimini  and  Florida,  which 
last  was  as  yet  considered  an  island.  Permission  was  also 
granted  him  to  recruit  men  either  in  Spain  or  in  the  colonies 
for  a  settlement  hi  Florida ;  but  he  deferred  entering  on  his 
command  for  the  present,  being  probably  discouraged  and 
impoverished  by  the  losses  in  his  last  expedition,  or  finding 
a  difficulty  in  enlisting  adventurers.  At  length  another  en- 
terprise presented  itself.  The  Caribs  had  by  this  time  be- 
come a  terror  to  the  Spanish  inhabitants  of  many  of  the  isl- 
ands, making  descents  upon  the  coasts  and  carrying  off 
captives,  who  it  was  supposed  were  doomed  to  be  devoured 
by  these  cannibals.  So  frequent  were  their  invasions  of  the 
island  of  Porto  Rico  that  it  was  feared  they  would  ultimately 
oblige  the  Spaniards  to  abandon  it. 

At  length  King  Ferdinand,  in  1514,  ordered  that  three 
ships,  well  armed  and  manned,  should  be  fitted  out  in  Sev- 
ille, destined  to  scour  the  islands  of  the  Caribs,  and  to  free 
the  seas  from  those  cannibal  marauders.  The  command  of 
the  armada  was  given  to  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  from  his 
knowledge  in  Indian  warfare,  and  his  varied  and  rough  ex- 
perience which  had  mingled  in  him  the  soldier  with  the  sailor. 
He  was  instructed  in  the  first  place  to  assail  the  Caribs  of 
those  islands  most  contiguous  and  dangerous  to  Porto  Rico, 
and  then  to  make  war  on  those  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Carthagena.  He  was  afterward  to 
take  the  captaincy  of  Porto  Rico,  and  to  attend  to  the  re- 
partimientos  or  distributions  of  the  Indians  hi  conjunction 
with  a  person  to  be  appointed  by  Diego  Columbus. 

The  enterprise  suited  the  soldier-like  spirit  of  Juan  Ponce 
de  Leon,  and  the  gallant  old  cavalier  set  sail  full  of  confi- 
dence in  January,  1515,  and  steered  direct  for  the  Caribbees, 
with  a  determination  to  give  a  wholesome  castigation  to  the 
whole  savago  archipelago.  Arriving  at  the  island  of  Gua- 
daloupe,  he  cast  anchor,  and  sent  men  on  shore  for  wood  and 


Spaijisl?  Voyages  of  Discovery  557 

water,  and  women  to  wash  the  clothing  of  the  crews,  with  a 
party  of  soldiers  to  mount  guard. 

Juan  Ponce  had  not  been  as  wary  as  usual,  or  he  had  to 
deal  with  savages  unusually  adroit  in  warfare.  While  the 
people  were  scattered  carelessly  on  shore,  the  Caribs  rushed 
forth  from  an  ambuscade,  killed  the  greater  part  of  the  men, 
and  carried  off  the  women  to  the  mountains. 

This  blow  at  the  very  outset  of  his  vaunted  expedition 
sank  deep  into  the  heart  of  Juan  Ponce,  and  put  an  end  to 
all  his  military  excitement.  Humbled  and  mortified,  he  set 
sail  for  the  island  of  Porto  Rico,  where  he  relinquished  all 
further  prosecution  of  the  enterprise,  under  pretext  of  ill 
health,  and  gave  the  command  of  the  squadron  to  a  captain 
named  Zuniga ;  but  it  is  surmised  that  his  malady  was  not 
so  much  of  the  flesh  as  of  the  spirit.  He  remained  in  Porto 
Rico  as  governor;  but,  having  grown  testy  and  irritable 
through  vexations  and  disappointments,  he  gave  great  offense, 
and  caused  much  contention  on  the  island  by  positive  and 
strong-handed  measures,  in  respect  to  the  distribution  of  the 
Indians. 

He  continued  for  several  years  in  that  island,  in  a  state 
of  growling  repose,  until  the  brilliant  exploits  of  Hernando 
Cortez,  which  threatened  to  eclipse  the  achievements  of  all 
the  veteran  discoverers,  roused  his  dormant  spirit. 

Jealous  of  being  cast  in  the  shade  in  his  old  days,  he  de- 
termined to  sally  forth  on  one  more  expedition.  He  had 
heard  that  Florida,  which  he  had  discovered,  and  which  he 
had  hitherto  considered  a  mere  island,  was  part  of  Terra 
Firma,  possessing  vast  and  unknown  regions  in  its  bosom. 
If  so,  a  grand  field  of  enterprise  lay  before  him,  wherein  he 
might  make  discoveries  and  conquests  to  rival,  if  not  surpass, 
the  far-famed  conquest  of  Mexico. 

Accordingly,  in  the  year  1521  he  fitted  out  two  ships  at 
the  island  of  Porto  Rico,  and  embarked  almost  the  whole  of 
his  property  in  the  undertaking.  His  voyage  was  toilsome 
and  tempestuous,  but  at  length  he  arrived  at  the  wished-for 
land.  He  made  a  descent  upon  the  coast  with  a  great  part 


558  U/or^s  of  U/as^irj^toi)  Irufi)$ 


of  his  men,  but  the  Indains  sallied  forth  with  unusual  valor 
to  defend  their  shores.  A  bloody  battle  ensued,  several  of 
the  Spaniards  were  slain,  and  Juan  Ponce  was  wounded  by 
an  arrow  in  the  thigh.  He  was  borne  on  board  his  ship 
and  finding  himself  disabled  for  further  action,  set  sail  for 
Cuba,  where  he  arrived  ill  in  body  and  dejected  in  heart. 

He  was  of  an  age  when  there  is  no  longer  prompt  and 
healthful  reaction  either  mental  or  corporeal.  The  irritations 
of  humiliated  pride  and  disappointed  hope  exasperated  the 
fever  of  his  wound,  and  he  died  soon  after  his  arrival  at  the 
island.  "Thus  fate,"  says  one  of  the  quaint  old  Spanish 
writers,  "delights  to  reverse  the  schemes  of  man.  The  dis- 
covery that  Juan  Ponce  flattered  himself  was  to  lead  to  a 
means  of  perpetuating  his  life  had  the  ultimate  effect  of 
hastening  his  death." 

It  may  be  said,  however,  that  he  has  at  least  attained  the 
shadow  of  his  desire,  since,  though  disappointed  in  extending 
the  natural  term  of  his  existence,  his  discovery  has  insured 
a  lasting  duration  to  his  name. 

The  following  epitaph  was  inscribed  upon  his  tomb,  which 
does  justice  to  the  warrior  qualities  of  the  stout  old  cavalier: 

"Mole  sub  hac  fortis  requiescat  ossa  Leon  is, 
Qui  vicit  factis  nomina  magna  suis." 

It  has  thus  been  paraphrased  in  Spanish  by  the  Licentiate 
Juan  de  Castellanos. 

"Aqueste  lugar  estrecho 
Es  sepulchre  del  varon, 
Que  en  el  nombre  fue  Leon, 
Y  tnucho  mas  en  el  hecho." 

"In  this  sepulcher  rest  the  bones  of  a  man  who  was  a  lion 
by  name,  and  still  more  by  nature." 


Sparjisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  559 


APPENDIX 


A  VISIT   TO  PALOS 

[The  following  narrative  was  actually  commenced,  by  the  author  ot 
this  work,  as  a  letter  to  a  friend,  but  unexpectedly  swelled  to  its 
present  size.  He  has  been  induced  to  insert  it  here  from  the  idea 
that  many  will  feel  the  same  curiosity  to  know  something  of  the 
present  state  of  Palos  and  its  inhabitants  that  led  him  to  make  the 
journey.] 

SEVILLE,  1828. 

SINCE  I  last  wrote  to  you  I  have  made  what  I  may  term 
an  American  Pilgrimage,  to  visit  the  little  port  of  Palos  in 
Andalusia,  where  Columbus  fitted  out  his  ships,  and  whence 
he  sailed  for  the  discovery  of  the  New  World.  Need  I  tell 
you  how  deeply  interesting  and  gratifying  it  has  been  to  me? 
I  had  long  meditated  this  excursion  as  a  kind  of  pious,  and 
if  I  may  so  say,  filial  duty  of  an  American,  and  my  in- 
tention was  quickened  when  I  learned  that  many  of  the 
edifices  mentioned  in  the  history  of  Columbus  still  remained 
in  nearly  the  same  state  in  which  they  existed  at  the  time 
of  his  sojourn  at  Palos,  and  that  the  descendants  of  the 
intrepid  Pinzons,  who  aided  him  with  ships  and  money,  and 
sailed  with  him  in  the  great  voyage  of  discovery,  still  flour- 
ished in  the  neighborhood. 

The  very  evening  before  my  departure  from  Seville  on 
the  excursion,  I  heard  that  there  was  a  young  gentleman  of 
the  Pinzon  family  studying  law  in  the  ctiy.  I  got  introduced 
to  him,  and  found  him  of  most  prepossessing  appearance  and 
manners.  He  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  his  father, 
Don  Juan  Fernandez  Pinzon,  resident  of  Moguer,  and  the 
present  head  of  the  family. 

As  it  was  in  the  middle  of  August,  and  the  weather  in- 
tensely hot,  I  hired  a  calesa  for  the  journey.  This  is  a  two- 
wheeled  carriage,  resembling  a  cabriolet,  but  of  the  most 
primitive  and  rude  construction;  the  harness  is  profusely 
ornamented  with  brass,  and  the  horse's  head  decorated  with 


660  U/or^s  of 

tufts  and  tassels  and  dangling  bobs  of  scarlet  and  yellow 
worsted.  I  had,  for  calasero,  a  tall,  long-legged  Andalusian, 
in  short  jacket,  little  round-crowned  hat,  breeches  decorated 
with  buttons  from  the  hip  to  the  knees,  and  a  pair  of  russet 
leather  bottinas  or  spatter-dashes.  He  was  an  active  fellow, 
though  uncommonly  taciturn  for  an  Andalusian,  and  strode 
along  beside  his  horse,  rousing  him  occasionally  to  greater 
speed  by  a  loud  malediction  or  a  hearty  thwack  of  his  cudgel. 

In  this  style  I  set  off  late  in  the  day  to  avoid  the  noontide 
heat,  and  after  ascending  the  lofty  range  of  hills  that  borders 
the  great  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir,  and  having  a  rough 
ride  among  their  heights,  I  descended  about  twilight  into  one 
of  those  vast,  silent,  melancholy  plains,  frequent  in  Spain, 
where  I  beheld  no  other  signs  of  life  than  a  roaming  flock 
of  bustards,  and  a  distant  herd  of  cattle,  guarded  by  a  soli- 
tary herdsman,  who,  with  a  long  pike  planted  in  the  earth, 
stood  motionless  in  the  midst  of  the  dreary  landscape,  re- 
sembling an  Arab  of  the  desert.  The  night  had  somewhat 
advanced  when  we  stopped  to  repose  for  a  few  hours  at  a 
solitary  venta  or  inn,  if  it  might  so  be  called,  being  nothing 
more  than  a  vast  low-roofed  stable,  divided  into  several  com- 
partments for  the  reception  of  the  troops  of  mules  and  arrieros 
(or  carriers)  who  carry  on  the  internal  trade  of  Spain.  Ac- 
commodation for  the  traveler  there  was  none — not  even  for 
a  traveler  so  easily  accommodated  as  myself.  The  landlord 
had  no  food  to  give  me,  and  as  to  a  bed,  he  had  none  but  a 
horse  cloth,  on  which  his  only  child,  a  boy  of  eight  years 
old,  lay  naked  on  the  earthen  floor.  Indeed  the  heat  of  the 
weather  and  the  fumes  from  the  stables  made  the  interior  of 
the  hovel  insupportable,  so  I  was  fain  to  bivouac  on  my  cloak 
on  the  pavement  at  the  door  of  the  venta,  where,  on  waking 
after  two  or  three  hours  of  sound  sleep,  I  found  a  contra- 
bandista  (or  smuggler)  snoring  beside  me,  with  his  blunder- 
buss on  his  arm. 

I  resumed  my  journey  before  break  of  day,  and  had  made 
several  leagues,  by  ten  o'clock,  when  we  stopped  to  breakfast 
and  to  pass  the  sultry  hours  of  midday  in  a  large  village, 
from  whence  we  departed  about  four  o'clock,  and,  after 
passing  through  the  same  kind  of  solitary  country,  arrived 
just  after  sunset  at  Moguer.  This  little  city  (for  at  present 
it  is  a  city)  is  situated  about  a  league  from  Palos,  of  which 
place  it  has  gradually  absorbed  all  the  respectable  inhabit- 
ants, and,  among  the  number,  the  whole  family  of  the 
Pinzons. 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  561 

So  remote  is  this  little  place  from  the  stir  and  bustle  of 
travel,  and  so  destitute  of  the  show  and  vainglory  of  this 
world,  that  my  calesa,  as  it  rattled  and  jingled  along  the 
narrow  and  ill-paved  streets,  caused  a  great  sensation;  the 
children  shouted  and  scampered  along  by  its  side,  admiring 
its  splendid  trappings  of  brass  and  worsted,  and  gazing  with 
reverence  at  the  important  stranger  who  came  in  so  gorgeous 
an  equipage. 

I  drove  up  to  the  principal  posada,  the  landlord  of  which 
was  at  the  door.  He  was  one  of  the  very  civilest  men  in  the 
world,  and  disposed  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  make 
me  comfortable ;  there  was  only  one  difficulty,  he  had  neither 
bed  nor  bedroom  in  his  house.  In  fact,  it  was  a  mere  venta 
for  muleteers,  who  are  accustomed  to  sleep  on  the  ground 
with  their  mule-cloths  for  beds  and  pack-saddles  for  pillows. 
It  was  a  hard  case,  but  there  was  no  better  posada  in  the 
place.  Few  people  travel  for  pleasure  or  curiosity  in  these 
out-of-the-way  parts  of  Spain,  and  those  of  any  note  are 
generally  received  into  private  houses.  I  had  traveled  suffi- 
ciently in  Spam  to  find  out  that  a  bed,  after  all,  is  not  an 
article  of  indispensable  necessity,  and  was  about  to  bespeak 
some  quiet  corner  where  I  might  spread  my  cloak,  when, 
fortunately,  the  landlord's  wife  came  forth.  She  could  not 
have  a  more  obliging  disposition  than  her  husband,  but  then 
— God  bless  the  women! — they  always  know  how  to  carry 
their  good  wishes  into  effect.  In  a  little  while  a  small  room 
about  ten  feet  square,  that  had  formed  a  thoroughfare  be- 
tween the  stables  and  a  kind  of  shop  or  barroom,  was  cleared 
of  a  variety  of  lumber,  and  I  was  assured  that  a  bed  should 
be  put  up  there  for  me.  From  the  consultations  I  saw  my 
hostess  holding  with  some  of  her  neighbor  gossips,  I  fancied 
the  bed  was  to  be  a  kind  of  piecemeal  contribution  among 
them  for  the  credit  of  the  house. 

As  soon  as  I  could  change  my  dress,  I  commenced  the 
historical  researches  which  were  the  object  of  my  journey, 
and  inquired  for  the  abode  of  Don  Juan  Fernandez  Pinzon. 
My  obliging  landlord  himself  volunteered  to  conduct  me 
thither,  and  I  set  off  full  of  animation  at  the  thoughts  of 
meeting  with  the  lineal  representative  of  one  of  the  coad- 
jutors of  Columbus. 

A  short  walk  brought  us  to  the  house,  which  was  most 
respectable  in  its  appearance,  indicating  easy  if  not  affluent 
circumstances.  The  door,  as  is  customary  in  Spanish  vil- 
lages during  summer,  stood  wide  open.  We  entered  with 


062  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir?<$toi>  Iru!r)$ 

the  usual  salutation,  or  rather  summons,  "Ave  Maria!"  A 
trim  Andalusian  handmaid  answered  to  the  call,  and,  on  our 
inquiring  for  the  master  of  the  house,  led  the  way  across  a 
little  patio  or  court  in  the  center  of  the  edifice,  cooled  by  a 
fountain  surrounded  by  shrubs  and  flowers,  to  a  back  court 
or  terrace,  likewise  set  out  with  flowers,  where  Don  Juan 
Fernandez  was  seated  with  his  family  enjoying  the  serene 
evening  in  the  open  air. 

I  was  much  pleased  with  his  appearance.  He  was  a 
venerable  old  gentleman,  tall  and  somewhat  thin,  with  fair 
complexion  and  gray  hair.  He  received  me  with  great 
urbanity,  and,  on  reading  the  letter  from  his  son,  appeared 
struck  with  surprise  to  find  I  had  come  quite  to  Moguer 
merely  to  visit  the  scene  of  the  embarkation  of  Columbus; 
and  still  more  so  on  my  telling  him  that  one  of  my  leading 
objects  of  curiosity  was  his  own  family  connection;  for  it 
would  seem  that  the  worthy  cavalier  had  troubled  his  head 
but  little  about  the  enterprises  of  his  ancestors. 

I  now  took  my  seat  in  the  domestic  circle  and  soon  felt 
myself  quite  at  home,  for  there  is  generally  a  frankness  in 
the  hospitality  of  Spaniards  that  soon  puts  a  stranger  at  his 
ease  beneath  their  roof.  The  wife  of  Don  Juan  Fernandez 
was  extremely  amiable  and  affable,  possessing  much  of  that 
natural  aptness  for  which  the  Spanish  women  are  remark- 
able. In  the  course  of  conversation  with  them,  I  learned 
that  Don  Juan  Fernandez,  who  is  seventy-two  years  of  age, 
is  the  eldest  of  five  brothers,  all  of  whom  are  married,  have 
numerous  offspring,  and  live  in  Moguer  and  its  vicinity  in 
nearly  the  same  condition  and  rank  of  life  as  at  the  time  of 
the  discovery.  This  agreed  with  what  I  had  previously 
heard  respecting  the  families  of  the  discoverers.  Of  Colum- 
bus no  lineal  and  direct  descendant  exists;  his  was  an  exotic 
stock  that  never  took  deep  and  lasting  root  in  the  country ; 
but  the  race  of  the  Pinzons  continues  to  thrive  and  multiply 
in  its  native  soil. 

While  I  was  yet  conversing,  a  gentleman  entered  who 
was  introduced  to  me  as  Don  Luis  Fernandez  Pinzon,  the 
youngest  of  the  brothers.  He  appeared  to  be  between  fifty 
and  sixty  years  of  age,  somewhat  robust,  with  fair  com- 
plexion and  gray  hair,  and  a  frank  and  manly  deportment. 
He  is  the  only  one  of  the  present  generation  that  has  followed 
the  ancient  profession  of  the  family;  having  served  with 
great  applause  as  an  officer  of  the  royal  navy,  from  which  he 
retired  on  his  marriage  about  twenty-two  years  since.  He 


Spapisl?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  563 

is  the  one  also  who  takes  the  greatest  interest  and  pride  in 
the  historical  honors  of  his  house,  carefully  preserving  all  the 
legends  and  documents  of  the  achievements  and  distinctions 
of  his  family,  a  manuscript  volume  of  which  he  lent  me  for 
my  inspection. 

Don  Juan  now  expressed  a  wish  that  during  my  residence 
in  Moguer  I  would  make  his  house  my  home.  I  endeavored 
to  excuse  myself,  alleging  that  the  good  people  at  the  posada 
had  been  at  such  extraordinary  trouble  in  preparing  quarters 
for  me  that  I  did  not  like  to  disappoint  them.  The  worthy 
jld  gentleman  undertook  to  arrange  all  this,  and,  while 
supper  was  preparing,  we  walked  together  to  the  posada.  I 
found  that  my  obliging  host  and  hostess  had  indeed  exerted 
themselves  to  an  uncommon  degree.  An  old  rickety  table 
had  been  spread  out  in  a  corner  of  the  little  room  as  a  bed- 
stead, on  top  of  which  was  propped  up  a  grand  cama  de  luxo, 
or  state  bed,  which  appeared  to  be  the  admiration  of  the 
house.  I  could  not  for  the  soul  of  me  appear  to  undervalue 
what  the  poor  people  had  prepared  with  such  hearty  good- 
will and  considered  such  a  triumph  of  art  and  luxury;  so  I 
again  entreated  Don  Juan  to  dispense  with  my  sleeping  at 
his  house,  promising  most  faithfully  to  make  my  meals  there 
while  I  should  stay  at  Moguer,  and,  as  the  old  gentleman 
understood  my  motives  for  declining  his  invitation  and  felt  a 
good-humored  sympathy  in  them,  we  readily  arranged  the 
matter.  I  returned,  therefore,  with  Don  Juan  to  his  house 
and  supped  with  his  family.  During  the  repast  a  plan  was 
agreed  upon  for  my  visit  to  Palos  and  to  the  convent  La 
Rabida,  in  which  Don  Juan  volunteered  to  accompany  me 
and  be  my  guide,  and  the  following  day  was  allotted  to  the 
expedition.  We  were  to  breakfast  at  a  hacienda  or  country- 
seat  which  he  possessed  in  the  vicinity  of  Palos  in  the  midst 
of  his  vineyards,  and  were  to  dine  there  on  our  return  from 
the  convent.  These  arrangements  being  made,  we  parted 
for  the  night;  I  returned  to  the  posada  highly  gratified  with 
my  visit,  and  slept  soundly  in  the  extraordinary  bed,  which, 
I  may  almost  say,  had  been  invented  for  my  accommodation. 

On  the  following  morning,  bright  and  early,  Don  Juan 
Fernandez  and  myself  set  off  in  the  calesa  for  Palos.  I  felt 
apprehensive  at  first  that  the  kind-hearted  old  gentleman,  in 
his  anxiety  to  oblige,  had  left  his  bed  at  too  early  an  hour, 
and  was  exposing  himself  to  fatigues  unsuited  to  his  age. 
He  laughed  at  the  idea,  and  assured  me  that  he  was  an  early 
riser,  and  accustomed  to  all  kinds  of  exercise  on  horse  and 


U/orl^s  of 

foot,  being  a  keen  sportsman,  and  frequently  passing  days 
together  among  the  mountains  on  shooting  expeditions,  tak- 
ing with  him  servants,  horses,  and  provisions,  and  living  in 
a  tent.  He  appeared,  in  fact,  to  be  of  an  active  habit,  and 
to  possess  a  youthful  vivacity  of  spirit.  His  cheerful  dispo- 
sition rendered  our  morning  drive  extremely  agreeable;  his 
urbanity  was  shown  to  every  one  whom  we  met  on  the 
road;  even  the  common  peasant  was  saluted  by  him  with 
the  appellation  of  caballero,  a  mark  of  respect  ever  grati- 
fying to  the  poor  but  proud  Spaniard,  when  yielded  by  a 
superior. 

As  the  tide  was  out  we  drove  along  the  flat  grounds  bor- 
dering the  Tinto.  The  river  was  on  our  right,  while  on  our 
left  was  a  range  of  hills,  jutting  out  into  promontories,  one 
beyond  the  other,  and  covered  with  vineyards  and  fig  trees. 
The  weather  was  serene,  the  air  soft  and  balmy,  and  the 
landscape  of  that  gentle  kind  calculated  to  put  one  in  a  quiet 
and  happy  humor.  We  passed  close  by  the  skirts  of  Palos, 
and  drove  to  the  hacienda,  which  is  situated  at  some  little 
distance  from  the  village,  between  it  and  the  river.  The 
house  is  a  low  stone  building,  well  whitewashed,  and  of  great 
length;  one  end  being  fitted  up  as  a  summer  residence,  with 
saloons,  bedrooms,  and  a  domestic  chapel;  and  the  other  as 
a  bodega  or  magazine  for  the  reception  of  the  wine  produced 
on  the  estate. 

The  house  stands  on  a  hill,  amid  vineyards  which  are 
supposed  to  cover  a  part  of  the  site  of  the  ancient  town  of 
Palos,  now  shrunk  to  a  miserable  village.  Beyond  these 
vineyards,  on  the  crest  of  a  distant  hill,  are  seen  the  white 
walls  of  the  convent  of  La  Rabida  rising  above  a  dark  wood 
of  pine  trees. 

Below  the  hacienda  flows  the  river  Tinto,  on  which  Co- 
lumbus embarked.  It  is  divided  by  a  low  tongue  of  land, 
or  rather  the  sand  bar  of  Saltes,  from  the  river  Odiel,  with 
which  it  soon  mingles  its  waters  and  flows  on  to  the  ocean. 
Beside  this  sand  bar,  where  the  channel  of  the  river  runs 
deep,  the  squadron  of  Columbus  was  anchored,  and  from 
hence  he  made  sail  on  the  morning  of  his  departure. 

The  soft  breeze  that  was  blowing  scarcely  ruffled  the  sur- 
face of  this  beautiful  river;  two  or  three  picturesque  barks, 
called  mysticks,  with  long  lateen  sails,  were  gliding  down  it. 
A  little  aid  of  the  imagination  might  suffice -to  picture  them 
as  the  light  caravels  of  Columbus,  sallying  forth  on  their 
eventful  expedition,  while  the  distant  bells  of  the  town  of 


I/eyases  of  Discovery  565 

Huelva,  which  were  ringing  melodiously,  might  be  supposed 
as  cheering  the  voyagers  with  a  farewell  peal. 

I  cannot  express  to  you  what  were  my  feelings  on  tread- 
ing the  shore  which  had  once  been  animated  by  the  bustle  of 
departure,  and  whose  sands  had  been  printed  by  the  last  foot- 
step of  Columbus.  The  solemn  and  sublime  nature  of  the 
event  that  had  followed,  together  with  the  fate  and  fortunes 
of  those  concerned  in  it,  filled  the  mind  with  vague  yet  mel- 
ancholy ideas.  It  was  like  viewing  the  silent  and  empty 
stage  of  some  great  drama  when  all  the  actors  had  departed. 
The  very  aspect  of  the  landscape,  so  tranquilly  beautiful,  had 
an  effect  upon  me,  and  as  I  paced  the  deserted  shore  by  the 
side  of  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  discoverers  I  felt  my  heart 
swelling  with  emotions  and  my  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

What  surprised  me  was  to  find  no  semblance  of  a  seaport; 
there  was  neither  wharf  nor  landing-place — nothing  but  a 
naked  river  bank,  with  the  hulk  of  a  ferryboat,  which  I  was 
told  carried  passengers  to  Huelva,  lying  high  and  dry  on  the 
sands,  deserted  by  the  tide.  Palos,  though  it  has  doubtless 
dwindled  away  from  its  former  size,  can  never  have  been 
important  as  to  extent  and  population.  If  it  possessed  ware- 
houses on  the  beach,  they  have  disappeared.  It  is  at  present 
a  mere  village  of  the  poorest  kind,  and  lies  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  river,  in  a  hollow  among  hills.  It  con- 
tains a  few  hundred  inhabitants,  who  subsist  principally  by 
laboring  in  the  fields  and  vineyards.  Its  race  of  merchants 
and  mariners  is  extinct.  There  are  no  vessels  belonging  to 
the  place,  nor  any  show  of  traffic,  excepting  at  the  season  of 
fruit  and  wine,  when  a  few  mysticks  and  other  light  barks 
anchor  in  the  river  to  collect  the  produce  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  people  are  totally  ignorant,  and  it  is  probable 
that  the  greater  part  of  them  scarce  know  even  the  name  of 
America.  Such  is  the  place  from  whence  sallied  forth  the 
enterprise  for  the  discovery  of  the  western  world! 

We  were  now  summoned  to  breakfast  in  a  little  saloon  of 
the  hacienda.  The  table  was  covered  with  natural  luxuries 
produced  upon  the  spot — fine  purple  and  muscatel  grapes 
from  the  adjacent  vineyard,  delicious  melons  from  the  gar- 
den, and  generous  wines  made  on  the  estate.  The  repast 
was  heightened  by  the  genial  manners  of  my  hospitable 
host,  who  appeared  to  possess  the  most  enviable  cheerfulness 
of  spirit  and  simplicity  of  heart. 

After  breakfast  we  set  off  in  the  calesa  to  visit  the  Con- 
vent of  La  Rabida,  which  is  about  half  a  league  distant. 


066  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ii)$toi)  Irvli)$ 

The  road,  for  a  part  of  the  way,  lay  through  the  vineyards, 
and  was  deep  and  sandy.  The  calasero  had  been  at  his  wits' 
end  to  conceive  what  motive  a  stranger  like  myself,  appar- 
ently traveling  for  mere  amusement,  could  have  in  coming 
BO  far  to  see  so  miserable  a  place  as  Palos,  which  he  set  down 
as  one  of  the  very  poorest  places  in  the  whole  world;  but  this 
additional  toil  and  struggle  through  deep  sand  to  visit  the 
old  Convent  of  La  Rabida  completed  his  confusion.  "Hom- 
bre!"  exclaimed  he,  "es  una  ruina!  no  hay  mas  que  dos 
frailes!" — "Zounds!  why,  it's  a  ruin!  there  are  only  two 
friars  there  1"  Don  Juan  laughed,  and  told  him  that  I  had 
come  all  the  way  from  Seville  precisely  to  see  that  old  ruin 
and  those  two  friars.  The  calasero  made  the  Spaniard's  last 
reply  when  he  is  perplexed — he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
crossed  himself. 

After  ascending  a  hill  and  passing  through  the  skirts  of 
a  straggling  pine  wood,  we  arrived  in  front  of  the  convent. 
It  stands  in  a  bleak  and  solitary  situation,  on  the  brow  of  a 
rocky  height  or  promontory,  overlooking  to  the  west  a  wide 
range  of  sea  and  land,  bounded  by  the  frontier  mountains  of 
Portugal,  about  eight  leagues  distant.  The  convent  is  shut 
out  from  a  view  of  the  vineyard  of  Palos  by  the  gloomy  for- 
est of  pines  which  I  have  mentioned,  which  cover  the  pro- 
montory to  the  east  and  darken  the  whole  landscape  in  that 
direction. 

There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  the  architecture  of  the 
convent;  part  of  it  is  Gothic,  but  the  edifice,  having  been 
frequently  repaired,  and  being  whitewashed,  according  to  a 
universal  custom  in  Andalusia,  inherited  from  the  Moors,  it 
has  not  that  venerable  aspect  which  might  be  expected  from 
its  antiquity. 

"We  alighted  at  the  gate  where  Columbus,  when  a  poor 
pedestrian,  a  stranger  in  the  land,  asked  bread  and  water  for 
his  child !  As  long  as  the  convent  stands,  this  must  be  a 
spot  calculated  to  awaken  the  most  thrilling  interest.  The 
gate  remains  apparently  in  nearly  the  same  state  as  at  the 
time  of  his  visit,  but  there  is  no  longer  a  porter  at  hand  to 
administer  to  the  wants  of  the  wayfarer.  The  door  stood 
wide  open,  and  admitted  us  into  a  small  courtyard.  From 
thence  we  passed  through  a  Gothic  portal  into  the  chapel, 
without  seeing  a  human  being.  We  then  traversed  two  in- 
terior cloisters,  equally  vacant  and  silent,  and  bearing  a  look 
of  neglect  and  dilapidation.  From  an  open  window  we  had 
a  peep  at  what  had  once  been  a  garden,  but  that  had  also 


Voyages  of  Discovery  567 

gone  to  ruin;  the  walls  were  broken  and  thrown  down;  a 
few  shrubs,  and  a  scattered  fig-tree  or  two,  were  all  the 
traces  of  cultivation  that  remained.  We  passed  through  the 
long  dormitories,  but  the  cells  were  shut  up  and  abandoned; 
we  saw  no  living  thing  except  a  solitary  cat  stealing  across 
a  distant  corridor,  which  fled  in  a  panic  at  the  unusual  sight 
of  strangers.  At  length,  after  patroling  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  empty  building  to  the  echo  of  our  own  footsteps,  we  came 
to  where  the  door  of  a  cell,  being  partly  open,  gave  us  the 
sight  of  a  monk  within,  seated  at  a  table  writing.  He  rose 
and  received  us  with  much  civility,  and  conducted  us  to  the 
superior,  who  was  reading  in  an  adjacent  cell.  They  were 
both  rather  young  men,  and,  together  with  a  novitiate  and 
a  lay-brother,  who  officiated  as  cook,  formed  the  whole  com- 
munity of  the  convent. 

Don  Juan  Fernandez  communicated  to  them  the  object  of 
my  visit,  and  my  desire  also  to  inspect  the  archives  of  the 
convent  to  find  if  there  was  any  record  of  the  sojourn  of  Co- 
lumbus. They  informed  us  that  the  archives  had  been  en- 
tirely destroyed  by  the  French.  The  younger  monk,  how- 
ever, who  had  perused  them,  had  a  vague  recollection  of 
various  particulars  concerning  the  transactions  of  Columbus 
at  Palos,  his  visit  to  the  convent,  and  the  sailing  of  his  ex- 
pedition. From  all  that  he  cited,  however,  it  appeared  to 
me  that  all  the  information  on  the  subject  contained  in  the 
archives  had  been  extracted  from  Herrera  and  other  well- 
known  authors. 

The  monk  was  talkative  and  eloquent,  and  soon  di- 
verged from  the  subject  of  Columbus  to  one  which  he  con- 
sidered of  infinitely  greater  importance — the  miraculous 
image  of  the  Virgin  possessed  by  their  convent,  and  known 
by  the  name  of  "Our  Lady  of  La  Rabida."  He  gave  us  a 
history  of  the  wonderful  way  in  which  the  image  had  been 
found  buried  in  the  earth,  where  it  had  lain  hidden  for  ages, 
since  the  time  of  the  conquest  of  Spain  by  the  Moors;  the 
disputes  between  the  convent  and  different  places  in  the 
neighborhood  for  the  possession  of  it ;  the  marvelous  protec- 
tion it  extended  to  the  adjacent  country,  especially  in  pre- 
venting all  madness,  either  in  man  or  dog;  for  this  malady 
was  anciently  so  prevalent  in  this  place  as  to  gain  it  the  ap- 
pellation of  La  Rabia,  by  which  it  was  originally  called ;  a 
name  which,  thanks  to  the  beneficent  influence  of  the  Virgin, 
it  no  longer  merited  or  retained.  Such  are  the  legends  and 
relics  with  which  every  convent  in  Spain  is  enriched,  which 


568  U/orlfs  of  U/asl?io$toi) 

are  zealously  cried  up  by  the  monks,  and  devoutly  credited 
by  the  populace. 

Twice  a  year  on  the  festival  of  our  Lady  of  La  Rabida, 
and  on  that  of  the  patron  saint  of  the  order,  the  solitude  and 
silence  of  the  convent  are  interrupted  by  the  intrusion  of  a 
swarming  multitude,  composed  of  the  inhabitants  of  Moguer, 
of  Huelva,  and  the  neighboring  plains  and  mountains.  The 
open  esplanade  in  front  of  the  edifice  resembles  a  fair,  the 
adjacent  forest  teems  with  the  motley  throng,  and  the  image 
of  our  Lady  of  La  Ribada  is  borne  forth  in  triumphant  pro- 
cession. 

}  While  the  friar  was  thus  dilating  upon  the  merits  and  re- 
nown of  the  image,  I  amused  myself  with  those  day  dreams 
or  conjurings  of  the  imagination  to  which  I  am  a  little  given. 
As  the  internal  arrangements  of  convents  are  apt  to  be  the 
same  from  age  to  age,  I  pictured  to  myself  this  chamber  as 
the  same  inhabited  by  the  guardian,  Juan  Perez  de  Mar- 
chena,  at  the  time  of  the  visit  of  Columbus.  Why  might  not 
the  old  and  ponderous  table  before  me  be  the  very  one  on 
which  he  displayed  his  conjectural  maps,  and  expounded  his 
theory  of  a  western  route  to  India?  It  required  but  another 
stretch  of  the  imagination  to  assemble  the  little  conclave 
around  the  table ;  Juan  Perez  the  friar,  Garci  Fernandez  the 
physician,  and  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  the  bold  navigator,  all 
listening  with  rapt  attention  to  Columbus,  or  to  the  tale  of 
some  old  seaman  of  Palos,  about  islands  seen  in  the  western 
parts  of  the  ocean. 

The  friars,  as  far  as  their  poor  means  and  scanty  knowl- 
edge extended,  were  disposed  to  do  everything  to  promote 
the  object  of  my  visit.  They  showed  us  all  parts  of  the  con- 
vent, which,  however,  has  little  to  boast  of,  excepting  the 
historical  associations  connected  with  it.  The  library  was 
reduced  to  a  few  volumes,  chiefly  on  ecclesiastical  subjects, 
piled  promiscuously  in  the  corner  of  a  vaulted  chamber,  and 
covered  with  dust.  The  chamber  itself  was  curious,  being 
the  most  ancient  part  of  the  edifice,  and  supposed  to  have 
formed  part  of  a  temple  in  the  time  of  the  Romans. 

We  ascended  to  the  roof  of  the  convent  to  enjoy  the  ex. 
tensive  prospect  it  commands.  Immediately  below  the  pron> 
ontory  on  which  it  is  situated  runs  a  narrow  but  tolerably 
deep  river,  called  the  Domingo  Rubio,  which  empties  itself 
into  the  Tinto.  It  is  the  opinion  of  Don  Luis  Fernandez  Pin- 
zon that  the  ships  of  Columbus  were  careened  and  fitted  out 
in  this  river,  as  it  affords  better  shelter  than  the  Tinto,  and 


Spaniel?  Uoya^es  of  Discovery  569 

its  shores  are  not  so  shallow.  A  lonely  bark  of  a  fisherman 
was  lying  in  this  stream,  and  not  far  off,  on  a  sandy  point, 
were  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  watch-tower.  From  the  roof  of 
the  convent  all  the  windings  of  the  Odiel  and  the  Tinto  were 
to  be  seen,  and  their  junction  into  the  main  stream,  by  which 
Columbus  sallied  forth  to  sea.  In  fact,  the  convent  serves 
as  a  landmark,  being,  from  its  lofty  and  solitary  situation, 
visible  for  a  considerable  distance  to  vessels  coming  on  the 
coast.  On  the  opposite  side  I  looked  down  upon  the  lonely 
road,  through  the  wood  of  pine  trees,  by  which  the  zealous 
guardian  of  the  convent,  Fray  Juan  Perez,  departed  at  mid- 
night on  his  mule,  when  he  sought  the  camp  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  in  the  Vega  of  Granada,  to  plead  the  project  of 
Columbus  before  the  queen. 

Having  finished  our  inspection  of  the  convent,  we  pre- 
pared to  depart,  and  were  accompanied  to  the  outward  por- 
tal by  the  two  friars.  Our  calasero  brought  his  rattling  and 
rickety  vehicle  for  us  to  mount;  at  sight  of  which  one  of  the 
monks  exclaimed,  with  a  smile,  "Santa  Maria!  only  to  think! 
A  calesa  before  the  gate  of  the  convent  of  La  Kabida !"  And, 
indeed,  so  solitary  and  remote  is  this  ancient  edifice,  and  so 
simple  is  the  mode  of  living  of  the  people  in  this  by-corner  of 
Spain,  that  the  appearance  of  even  a  sorry  calesa  might  well 
cause  astonishment.  It  is  only  singular  that  in  such  a  by- 
corner  the  scheme  of  Columbus  should  have  found  intelligent 
listeners  and  coadjutors,  after  it  had  been  discarded,  almost 
with  scoffing  and  contempt,  from  learned  universities  and 
splendid  courts. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hacienda  we  met  Don  Rafael,  a 
younger  son  of  Don  Juan  Fernandez,  a  fine  young  man  about 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  who,  his  father  informed  me, 
was  at  present  studying  French  and  mathematics.  He  was 
well  mounted  on  a  spirited  gray  horse,  and  dressed  in  the  An- 
dalusian  style,  with  the  little  round  hat  and  jacket.  He  sat 
his  horse  gracefully  and  managed  him  well.  I  was  pleased 
with  the  frank  and  easy  terms  on  which  Don  Juan  appeared 
to  live  with  his  children.  This  I  was  inclined  to  think  his 
favorite  son,  as  I  understood  he  was  the  only  one  that  par- 
took of  the  old  gentleman's  fondness  for  the  chase,  and  that 
accompanied  him  in  his  hunting  excursions. 

A  dinner  had  been  prepared  for  us  at  the  hacienda  by  the 
wife  of  the  capitaz,  or  overseer,  who,  with  her  husband, 
seamed  to  be  well  pleased  with  this  visit  from  Don  Juan, 
and  to  be  confident  of  receiving  a  pleasant  answer  from  the 


570  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir)$toi}  Irulr?$ 

good-humored  old  gentleman  whenever  they  addressed  him. 
The  dinner  was  served  up  about  two  o'clock,  and  was  a  most 
agreeable  meal.  The  fruits  and  wines  were  from  the  estate, 
and  were  excellent;  the  rest  of  the  provisions  were  from 
Moguer,  for  the  adjacent  village  of  Palos  is  too  poor  to  fur- 
nish any  thing.  A  gentle  breeze  from  the  sea  played  through 
the  hall,  and  tempered  the  summer  heat.  Indeed  I  do  not 
know  when  I  have  seen  a  more  enviable  spot  than  this  coun- 
try retreat  of  the  Pinzons.  Its  situation  on  a  breezy  hill,  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  sea,  and  in  a  southern  climate, 
produces  a  happy  temperature,  neither  hot  in  summer  nor 
cold  in  winter.  It  commands  a  beautiful  prospect,  and  is 
surrounded  by  natural  luxuries.  The  country  abounds  with 
game,  the  adjacent  river  affords  abundant  sport  in  fishing, 
both  by  day  and  night,  and  delightful  excursions  for  those 
fond  of  sailing.  During  the  busy  seasons  of  rural  life,  and 
especially  at  the  joyous  period  of  vintage,  the  family  pass 
some  time  here,  accompanied  by  numerous  guests,  at  which 
times,  Don  Juan  assured  me,  there  was  no  lack  of  amuse' 
ments,  both  by  land  and  water. 

When  we  had  dined,  and  taken  the  siesta  or  afternoon 
nap,  according  to  the  Spanish  custom  in  summer-tune,  we 
set  out  on  our  return  to  Moguer,  visiting  the  village  of  Palos> 
in  the  way.  Don  Gabriel  had  been  sent  in  advance  to  pro- 
cure the  keys  of  the  village  church,  and  to  apprise  the  cura**» 
of  our  wish  to  inspect  the  archives.  The  village  consists 
principally  of  two  streets  of  low  whitewashed  houses.  Many 
of  the  inhabitants  have  very  dark  complexions,  betraying  a 
mixture  of  African  blood. 

On  entering  the  village,  we  repaired  to  the  lowly  mansion 
of  the  curate.  I  had  hoped  to  find  him  some  such  personage 
as  the  curate  in  "Don  Quixote,"  possessed  of  shrewdness  and 
information  in  his  limited  sphere,  and  that  I  might  gain, 
some  anecdotes  from  him  concerning  his  parish,  its  worthies, 
its  antiquities,  and  its  historical  events.  Perhaps  I  might 
have  done  so  at  any  other  time,  but,  unfortunately,  the 
curate  was  something  of  a  sportsman,  and  had  heard  of 
some  game  among  the  neighboring  hills.  We  met  him  just 
sallying  forth  from  his  house,  and,  I  must  confess,  his  ap- 
pearance was  picturesque.  He  was  a  short,  broad,  sturdy 
little  man,  and  had  doffed  his  cassock  and  broad  clerical 
beaver  for  a  short  jacket  and  a  little  round  Andalusian  hat; 
he  had  his  gun  in  hand,  and  was  on  the  point  of  mounting 
a  donkey  which  had  been  led  fortl?  by  an  ancient  withered 


Spaoisl?  Uoya<$es  of  Discovery  571 

handmaid.  Fearful  of  being  detained  from  his  foray,  he 
accosted  my  companion  the  moment  he  came  in  sight.  "God 
preserve  you,  Senor  Don  Juan!  I  have  received  your  mes- 
sage, and  have  but  one  answer  to  make.  The  archives  have 
all  been  destroyed.  We  have  no  trace  of  anything  you  seek 
for — nothing — nothing.  Don  Rafael  has  the  keys  of  the 
church.  You  can  examine  it  at  your  leisure. — Adios,  cabal- 
lero!"  "With  these  words  the  galliard  little  curate  mounted 
his  donkey,  thumped  his  ribs  with  the  butt  end  of  his  gun, 
and  trotted  off  to  the  hills. 

In  our  way  to  the  church  we  passed  by  the  ruins  of  what 
had  once  been  a  fair  and  spacious  dwelling,  greatly  superior 
to  the  other  houses  of  the  village.  This,  Don  Juan  informed 
me,  was  an  old  family  possession,  but  since  they  had  removed 
from  Palos  it  had  fallen  to  decay  for  want  of  a  tenant.  It 
was  probably  the  family  residence  of  Martin  Alonzo  or  Vi- 
cente Yanez  Pinzon  in  the  time  of  Columbus. 

We  now  arrived  at  the  church  of  St.  George,  in  the  porch 
of  which  Columbus  first  proclaimed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Pa- 
los the  order  of  the  sovereigns,  that  they  should  furnish  him 
with  ships  for  his  great  voyage  of  discovery.  This  edifice 
has  lately  been  thoroughly  repaired,  and,  being  of  solid  ma- 
son-work, promises  to  stand  for  ages,  a  monument  of  the 
discoverers.  It  stands  outside  of  the  village,  on  the  brow  of 
a  hill,  looking  along  a  little  valley  toward  the  river.  The 
remains  of  a  Moorish  arch  prove  it  to  have  been  a  mosque 
in  former  times;  just  above  it,  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  is  the 
ruin  of  a  Moorish  castle. 

I  paused  in  the  porch  and  endeavored  to  recall  the  inter- 
esting scene  that  had  taken  place  there,  when  Columbus,  ac- 
companied by  the  zealous  friar,  Juan  Perez,  caused  the  public 
notary  to  read  the  royal  order  in  presence  of  the  astonished 
alcaldes,  regidors,  and  alguazils ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  conceive 
the  consternation  that  must  have  been  struck  into  so  remote 
a  little  community  by  this  sudden  apparition  of  an  entire 
stranger  among  them,  bearing  a  command  that  they  should 
put  their  persons  and  ships  at  his  disposal,  and  sail  with  him 
away  into  the  unknown  wilderness  of  the  ocean. 

The  interior  of  the  church  has  nothing  remarkable,  ex- 
cepting a  wooden  image  of  St.  George  vanquishing  the 
Dragon,  which  is  erected  over  the  high  altar,  and  is  the 
admiration  of  the  good  people  of  Palos,  who  bear  it  about 
the  streets  in  grand  procession  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
saint.  This  group  existed  in  the  time  of  Columbus,  and  now 


572  U/orKs  of  U/asl?ir}$tor? 

flourishes  in  renovated  youth  and  splendor,  having  been 
newly  painted  and  gilded,  and  the  countenance  of  the  saint 
rendered  peculiarly  blooming  and  lustrous. 

Having  finished  the  examination  of  the  church,  we  re- 
sumed our  seats  in  the  calesa  and  returned  to  Moguer.  One 
thing  only  remained  to  fulfill  the  object  of  my  pilgrimage. 
This  was  to  visit  the  chapel  of  the  Convent  of  Santa  Clara. 
When  Columbus  was  in  danger  of  being  lost  in  a  tempest  on 
his  way  home  from  his  great  voyage  of  discovery,  he  made 
a  vow  that,  should  he  be  spared,  he  would  watch  and  pray 
one  whole  night  in  this  chapel;  a  vow  which  he  doubtless 
fulfilled  immediately  after  his  arrival. 

My  kind  and  attentive  friend,  Don  Juan,  conducted  me 
to  the  convent.  It  is  the  wealthiest  in  Moguer,  and  belongs 
to  a  sisterhood  of  Franciscan  nuns.  The  chapel  is  large,  and 
ornamented  with  some  degree  of  richness,  particularly  the 
part  about  the  high  altar,  which  is  embellished  by  magnifi- 
cent monuments  of  the  brave  family  of  the  Puerto  Carreros, 
the  ancient  lords  of  Moguer,  and  renowned  in  Moorish  war- 
fare. The  alabaster  effigies  of  distinguished  warriors  of  that 
house,  and  of  their  wives  and  sisters,  lie  side  by  side,  with 
folded  hands,  on  tombs  immediately  before  the  altar,  while 
others  recline  in  deep  niches  on  either  side.  The  night  had 
closed  in  by  the  time  I  entered  the  church,  which  made  the 
scene  more  impressive.  A  few  votive  lamps  shed  a  dim  light 
about  the  interior ;  their  beams  were  feebly  reflected  by  the 
gilded  work  of  the  high  altar,  and  the  frames  of  the  sur- 
rounding paintings,  and  rested  upon  the  marble  figures  of 
the  warriors  and  dames  lying  in  the  monumental  repose  of 
ages.  The  solemn  pile  must  have  presented  much  the  same 
appearance  when  the  pious  discoverer  performed  his  vigil, 
kneeling  before  this  very  altar,  and  praying  and  watching 
throughout  the  night,  and  pouring  forth  heart-felt  praises 
for  having  been  spared  to  accomplish  his  sublime  discovery. 

I  had  now  completed  the  main  purpose  of  my  journey, 
having  visiled  the  various  places  connected  with  the  story  of 
Columbus.  It  was  highly  gratifying  to  find  some  of  them 
so  little  changed,  though  so  great  a  space  of  time  had  inter- 
vened ;  but  in  this  quiet  nook  of  Spain,  so  far  removed  from 
the  main  thoroughfares,  the  lapse  of  time  produces  but  few 
violent  revolutions.  Nothing,  however,  had  surprised  and 
gratified  me  more  than  the  continued  stability  of  the  Pinzon 
family.  On  the  morning  after  my  excursion  to  Palos,  chance 
gave  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  something  of  the  interior 


Sparest?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  573 

of  most  of  their  households.  Having  a  curiosity  to  visit  the 
remains  of  a  Moorish  castle,  once  the  citadel  of  Moguer,  Don 
Fernandez  undertook  to  show  me  a  tower  which  served  as 
a  magazine  of  wine  to  one  of  the  Pinzon  family.  In  seeking 
for  the  key  we  were  sent  from  house  to  house  of  nearly  the 
whole  connection.  All  appeared  to  be  living  in  that  golden 
mean  equally  removed  from  the  wants  and  superfluities  of 
life,  and  all  to  be  happily  interwoven  by  kind  and  cordial 
habits  of  intimacy.  We  found  the  females  of  the  family 
generally  seated  in  the  patios,  or  central  courts  of  their  dwell- 
ings, beneath  the  shade  of  awnings  and  among  shrubs  and 
flowers.  Here  the  Andalusian  ladies  are  accustomed  to  pass 
their  mornings  at  work,  surrounded  by  their  handmaids,  in 
the  primitive,  or,  rather,  Oriental  style.  In  the  porches  of 
some  of  the  houses  I  observed  the  coat  of  arms,  granted  to 
the  family  by  Charles  V.,  hung  up  like  a  picture  in  a  frame. 
Over  the  door  of  Don  Luis,  the  naval  officer,  it  was  carved 
on  an  escutcheon  of  stone,  and  colored.  I  had  gathered 
many  particulars  of  the  family  also  from  conversation  with 
Don  Juan,  and  from  the  family  legend  lent  me  by  Don  Luis. 
From  all  that  I  could  learn,  it  would  appear  that  the  lapse  of 
nearly  three  centuries  and  a  half  has  made  but  little  change 
in  the  condition  of  the  Pinzons.  From  generation  to  genera- 
tion they  have  retained  the  same  fair  standing  and  reputable 
name  throughout  the  neighborhood,  filling  offices  of  public 
trust  and  dignity,  and  possessing  great  influence  over  their 
fellow-citizens  by  their  good  sense  and  good  conduct.  How 
rare  is  it  to  see  such  an  instance  of  stability  of  fortune  in  this 
fluctuating  world,  and  how  truly  honorable  is  this  hereditary 
respectability,  which  has  been  secured  by  no  titles  or  entails, 
but  perpetuated  merely  by  the  innate  worth  of  the  race !  I 
declare  to  you  that  the  most  illustrious  descents  of  mere  titled 
rank  could  never  command  the  sincere  respect  and  cordial 
regard  with  which  I  contemplated  this  stanch  and  enduring 
family,  which  for  three  centuries  and  a  half  has  stood  merely 
upon  its  virtues. 

As  I  was  to  set  off  on  my  return  to  Seville  before  two 
o'clock,  I  partook  of  a  farewell  repast  at  the  house  of  Don 
Juan,  between  twelve  and  one,  and  then  took  leave  of  his 
household  with  sincere  regret.  The  good  old  gentleman, 
with  the  courtesy,  or,  rather,  the  cordiality  of  a  true  Span- 
iard, accompanied  me  to  the  posada  to  see  me  off.  I  had 
dispensed  but  little  money  in  the  posada — thanks  to  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  Pinzons — yet  the  Soanish  pride  of  my  host 


574  U/or^s  of  U/ael?io$too 

and  hostess  seemed  pleased  that  I  had  preferred  their  hum- 
ble chamber,  and  the  scanty  bed  they  had  provided  me,  to 
the  spacious  mansion  of  Don  Juan ;  and  when  I  expressed 
my  thanks  for  their  kindness  and  attention,  and  regaled  mine 
host  with  a  few  choice  cigars,  the  heart  of  the  poor  man  was 
overcome.  He  seized  me  by  both  hands  and  gave  me  a  part- 
ing benediction,  and  then  ran  after  the  calasero  to  enjoin 
him  to  take  particular  care  of  me  during  my  journey. 

Taking  a  hearty  leave  of  my  excellent  friend  Don  Juan, 
who  had  been  unremitting  in  his  attentions  to  me  to  the  last 
moment,  I  now  set  off  on  my  wayfaring,  gratified  to  the  ut- 
most with  my  visit,  and  full  of  kind  and  grateful  feelings 
toward  Moguer  and  its  hospitable  inhabitants. 


MANIFESTO  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA 

[The  following  curious  formula,  composed  by  learned  divines  in  Spain, 
was  first  read  aloud  by  the  friars  in  the  train  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  as 
a  prelude  to  his  attack  on  the  savages  of  Carthagena;  and  was  sub- 
sequently adopted  by  the  Spanish  discoverers  in  general,  in  their 
invasions  of  the  Indian  countries.] 

1,  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA,  servant  of  the  high  and  mighty 
kings  of  Castile  and  Leon,  civihzers  of  barbarous  nations, 
their  messenger  and  captain,  notify  and  make  known  to  you, 
in  the  best  way  I  can,  that  God  our  Lord,  one  and  eternal, 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  one  man  and  one 
woman,  from  whom  you,  and  we,  and  all  the  people  of  the 
earth,  were  and  are  descendants,  procreated,  and  all  those 
who  shall  come  after  us ;  but  the  vast  number  of  generations 
which  have  proceeded  from  them,  in  the  course  of  more  than 
five  thousand  years  that  have  elapsed  since  the  creation  of 
the  world,  made  it  necessary  that  some  of  the  human  race 
should  disperse  in  one  direction  and  some  in  another,  and 
that  they  should  divide  themselves  into  many  kingdoms  and 
provinces,  as  they  could  not  sustain  and  preserve  themselves 
in  one  alone.  All  these  people  were  given  in  charge,  by  God 
our  Lord,  to  one  person,  named  St.  Peter,  who  was  thus 
made  lord  and  superior  of  all  the  people  of  the  earth,  and 
head  of  the  whole  human  lineage,  whom  all  should  obey, 


Spapisl?  l/oya^es  of  Discovery  575 

•wherever  they  might  live,  and  whatever  might  be  their  law, 
sect  or  belief ;  he  gave  him  also  the  whole  world  for  his  ser- 
vice and  jurisdiction,  and  though  he  desired  that  he  should 
establish  his  chair  in  Rome,  as  a  place  most  convenient  for 
governing  the  world,  yet  he  permitted  that  he  might  estab- 
lish his  chair  in  any  other  part  of  the  world,  and  judge  and 
govern  all  the  nations,  Christians,  Moors,  Jews,  Gentiles, 
and  whatever  other  sect  or  belief  might  be.  This  person 
was  denominated  Pope,  that  is  to  say,  admirable,  supreme, 
father  and  guardian,  because  he  is  father  and  governor  of  all 
mankind.  This  holy  father  was  obeyed  and  honored  as  lord, 
king,  and  superior  of  the  universe  by  those  who  lived  in  his 
time,  and,  in  like  manner,  have  been  obeyed  and  honored  by 
all  those  who  have  been  elected  to  the  Pontificate,  and  thus  it 
has  continued  unto  the  present  day,  and  will  continue  until 
the  end  of  the  world. 

One  of  these  Pontiffs  of  whom  I  have  spoken,  as  lord  of 
the  world,  made  a  donation  of  these  islands  and  continents, 
of  the  ocean,  sea,  and  all  that  they  contain,  to  the  Catholic 
kings  of  Castile,  who  at  that  time  were  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella of  glorious  memory,  and  to  their  successors,  our  sov- 
ereigns, according  to  the  tenor  of  certain  papers  drawn  up 
for  the  purpose  (which  you  may  see  if  you  desire).  Thus 
his  majesty  is  king  and  sovereign  of  these  islands  and  conti- 
nents by  virtue  of  the  said  donation;  and  as  king  and  sov- 
ereign, certain  islands,  and  almost  all  to  whom  this  has  been 
notified,  have  received  his  majesty,  and  have  obeyed  and 
served  and  do  actually  serve  him.  And,  moreover,  like  good 
subjects,  and  with  good-will,  and  without  any  resistance  or 
delay,  the  moment  they  were  informed  of  the  foregoing,  they 
obeyed  all  the  religious  men  sent  among  them  to  preach  and 
teach  our  Holy  Faith ;  and  these  of  their  free  and  cheerful 
will,  without  any  condition  or  reward,  became  Christians, 
and  continue  so  to  be.  And  his  majesty  received  them  kindly 
and  benignantly,  and  ordered  that  they  should  be  treated 
like  his  other  subjects  and  vassals :  you  also  are  required  and 
obliged  to  do  the  same.  Therefore,  in  the  best  manner  I 
can,  I  pray  and  entreat  you  that  you  consider  well  what 
I  have  said,  and  that  you  take  whatever  time  is  reasonable 
to  understand  and  deliberate  upon  it,  and  that  you  recognize 
the  church  for  sovereign  and  superior  of  the  universal  world, 
and  the  supreme  Pontiff,  called  Pope,  in  her  name,  and  his 
majesty  in  his  place,  as  superior  and  sovereign  king  of  the 
islands  and  Terra  Firma,  by  virtue  of  the  said  donation ;  and 


576  U/orl(8  of 

that  you  consent  that  these  religious  fathers  declare  and 
preach  to  you  the  foregoing ;  and  if  you  shall  so  do,  you  will 
do  well;  and  will  do  that  to  which  you  are  bounden  and 
obliged;  and  his  majesty,  and  I  in  his  name,  will  receive 
you  with  all  due  love  and  charity,  and  will  leave  you,  your 
wives  and  children,  free  from  servitude,  that  you  may  freely 
do  with  these  and  with  yourselves  whatever  you  please,  and 
think  proper,  as  have  done  the  inhabitants  of  the  other  isl- 
ands. And  besides  this,  his  majesty  will  give  you  many 
privileges  and  exemptions,  and  grant  you  many  favors.  If 
you  do  not  do  this,  or  wickedly  and  intentionally  delay  to  do 
BO,  I  certify  to  you  that,  by  the  aid  of  God,  I  will  powerfully 
invade  and  make  war  upon  you  in  all  parts  and  modes  that 
I  can,  and  will  subdue  you  to  the  yoke  and  obedience  of  the 
church  and  of  his  majesty ;  and  I  will  take  your  wives  and 
children  and  make  slaves  of  them,  and  sell  them  as  such, 
and  dispose  of  them  as  his  majesty  may  command ;  and  I 
will  take  your  effects  and  will  do  you  all  the  harm  and  in- 
jury in  my  power,  as  vassals  who  will  not  obey  or  receive 
their  sovereign  and  who  resist  and  oppose  him.  And  I  pro- 
test that  the  deaths  and  disasters  which  may  in  this  manner 
be  occasioned  will  be  the  fault  of  yourselves  and  not  of  his 
majesty,  nor  of  me,  nor  of  these  cavaliers  who  accompany 
me.  And  of  what  I  here  tell  you  and  require  of  you,  I  call 
upon  the  notary  here  present  to  give  me  his  signed  testi- 
monial. 


END   OP  VOLUME   FIVE 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  081  395     6 


